


Desperately Seeking Super-Husbands

by lachatblanche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Fluff and Crack, M/M, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1715513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the KMM Prompt: Happily established relationships where Tony is with Steve, and Erik with Charles.</p>
<p>Steve and Charles are called in to do a mission that maybe requires them to pose as a couple. And because of the delicate nature of the situation, they have to travel immediately, under the cover of the night, and aren't allowed to tell even their SOs.</p>
<p>So of course by the time it gets back to Tony and Erik, they're shocked to discover the loves of their lives have eloped with each other. And then Steve and Charles get in trouble, so of course the jilted duo suit up to go rescue them, because even they still love their traitorous paramours.</p>
<p>Cue Erik and Tony shenanigans where they are alternatively vengeful/snippy over each others' exes, defensive about theirs, insecure as they realize fuck Charles and Steve might actually deserve each other more why were they ever with us, and learn to work together like a catty dream team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I wrote in about half an hour because I was too impatient to wait around for someone else to tackle this fab prompt (I'm still waiting so if anyone else wants to have a go at this then PLEASE DO!)
> 
> Takes place after Erik and Tony have discovered that Charles and Steve have disappeared.

‘Godammit, Stark!’ Erik swore for what had to be the two-hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours.

Tony, unfortunately, wasn’t feeling all that charitable himself. ‘Hey, is it _my_ fault that the love of my life ditched the secretly-GPS-enabled signet ring that I gave him for his birthday with the promise that he never take it off?’ he demanded irritably, glaring. ‘ _No_ , I think _not_ , so watch who you’re barking at here, Lehnsherr. Or did _your_ telepathic little darling have a GPS tracker I don’t know about stowed away somewhere on his attractive, treacherous little person?’

‘No,’ Erik admitted reluctantly. It certainly hadn’t been for lack of trying, though. ‘He has a family ring that he likes to wear but even if he had it on him I couldn’t track it from this distance.’

‘Well then you’re just all kinds of useful, aren’t you?’ Tony said sarcastically.

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘Says the idiot who can’t even manage to have his boyfriend keep his tracker with him at all times!’ he growled.

‘Says the _asshole_ who can’t even manage to _plant_ a tracker on his boyfriend in the first place!’ Tony retorted, narrowing his own eyes in return.

‘Charles is a _telepath_!’ Erik hissed in protest, his cheeks reddening. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things a secret from him?’

‘Well clearly _he_ didn’t have the same problem,’ Tony drawled out bitingly. ‘Otherwise _someone_ would have seen this coming.’

‘Like you did, you mean?’ Erik sneered. ‘Because you knew about their plan _all along_ didn’t you? Which is why you didn’t even realise that your boyfriend was gone until almost 24 hours after he’d gone missing!’

‘Not fair! I was in my lab!’

‘And I was at work!’

‘You’re _always_ at work!’

‘And _you’re_ always drunk!’

‘I just had _one glass_ , Lehnsherr, _one glass_! And – under the circumstances – can you really blame me?’

‘Oh, I blame you,’ Erik said darkly. ‘I definitely blame you.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t,’ Tony snapped, putting his hands on his hips and glowering at Erik. ‘I mean, you do know who’s _really_ to blame for all this, don’t you?’

Erik gritted his teeth. ‘I promise you, Stark, if you say “Charles” one more time …’

‘Oh, don’t worry, I won’t!’ Tony said with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Because the one who’s _really_ to blame for all this? Well, that’s _you_ , buddy.’

‘ _Me?_ ’ Erik’s eyes widened in outrage.

‘Yeah, you,’ Tony sneered, glaring at him. ‘Maybe if you actually managed to satisfy your boyfriend every once in a while-’

‘ _What?_ ’

‘- instead of being such a selfish _dumb-ass_ then maybe this whole damn shitfest wouldn’t have happened!’

‘Are you out of your _mind_ , Stark?’ Erik all but snarled, clenching his fists. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about!’

‘Sure I do,’ Tony raised his chin haughtily. ‘You’re a bad-tempered asshole who’s always at work and is shit in the sack and so poor Charlie had to go and find someone else to help him out when he had an itch to scratch. Someone who knew what they were _doing_.’

‘I guess that’s why he didn’t go to _you_ then,’ Erik growled, as all the metal objects in the room started to tremble violently.

‘You might want to shut your mouth, Lehnsherr,’ Tony said with a sharp grin, ignoring the room vibrating around him. ‘Or I might just shut it for you.’

‘I’d like to see you try,’ Erik sneered.

‘Is that what Charles says when the two of you are in bed together?’

A knife went sailing towards Tony, who managed to avoid it only by a hair’s breadth.

‘I’ll have you know that I’m ten times the man you’ll ever be,’ Erik snarled. ‘ _In_ the bedroom _and_ out.’

‘Uh huh?’ Tony looked highly sceptical. ‘Is that what you keep telling yourself after your scheduled bi-monthly ten-minute vanilla sex sessions?’

‘Bi-’ Erik’s face turned almost purple in outrage. ‘How dare- Charles and I have sex _every night_! And it lasts for _hours_!’

Tony’s eyebrows rose. ‘Every night, huh?’ he asked sarcastically. ‘And _hours?_ Well – colour me impressed. That sure is a neat trick there, Lehnsherr, what with you pulling all those all-nighters at work every other day-’

‘ _Week_ ,’ Erik corrected grumpily, scowling at him. ‘Every other _week_. And that’s the only exception.’

‘If you say so.’ Tony said dismissively. ‘But still, you can tell me – the sex is all different flavours of vanilla, right?’

Erik glared at him. ‘If you had _any_ idea of what a master of magnetism and a telepath could do in the bedroom then you wouldn’t _dare_ say such a thing,’ he said haughtily.

‘Well how about you enlighten me then?’

Erik opened his mouth to do just that, but then he realised that the expression on Tony’s face was far too eager for his liking, so he promptly shut his mouth and glared at him instead. 

Seeing this, Tony sighed. ‘Ah well, it was worth a try,’ he said, shrugging. Then he leered. ‘Which is what I’ll tell Charles when I find him and Steve.’

Erik immediately stiffened. ‘ _What?_ ’ he asked in a low, dangerous tone.

Tony shrugged. ‘Well,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘It’s the way of the world, isn’t it? Things change. You either adapt or you get left by the wayside. You’re a mutant – supposedly the “next stage of evolution” and all that – even though I seriously doubt it in _your_ case, Lehnsherr. Still – evolution. You should be familiar with this shit, right?’

Erik didn’t answer. ‘What exactly are you getting at, Stark?’ he asked instead, his voice cold.

‘Well,’ Tony said slowly. ‘The way I see it is this: I used to be with Steve, which is good. Steve is now with Charles, which is bad. Someone’s going to end up hurt unless we do something about it, which is _very_ bad … _But_. There is one obvious solution that stands head and shoulders above all others that might just help us to avoid what might end up being a nasty little problem.’

Erik raised an eyebrow in inquiry. ‘Oh?’ he asked dryly. ‘And what is that, pray tell?’

Tony’s mouth immediately stretched into a wide, enthusiastic smile. ‘A threesome!’ he announced dramatically, spreading his arms wide and beaming at Erik.

Erik’s expression went from being vaguely expectant to completely flat in less than a fraction of a second.

‘And where exactly would _I_ be during the union of this Unholy Trinity?’ he asked Tony flatly, his tone icy cold.

Tony blinked and then spent a minute thinking really, really hard. Then he perked up, an idea of clear genius forming in his head. He smiled, looked at Erik and then said, with an expression that was proud and inexpressibly self-satisfied:

‘Foursome?’

This time he wasn’t able to avoid the projectile that zipped through the air and knocked him squarely on the head with a resounding _thud_.

*****

_Meanwhile, halfway across the world …_

 

‘More tea, Charles?’ Steve asked politely.

‘Thank you, Steve,’ Charles beamed at him over their small, cosy table. ‘Would you care for another scone?’

‘Sure,’ Steve gave him a warm smile in return. ‘I’ll have one without-’

‘Without any raisins,’ Charles and he finished together. They shared a warm glance over the rims of their teacups and then quietly set about buttering their scones, revelling in the warm, comfortable, blessed silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously I am absolutely incapable of writing a one-shot ... which means there is more of this ridiculousness.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was roughly fifty-six hours after the departure of their duplicitous paramours that Erik and Tony realised that trying to knock the stuffing out of each other _probably_ wasn’t the best plan when it came to finding their beloved partners.

‘Look Lehnsherr,’ Tony wheezed, clutching at his now bruised eye and trying hard not to grimace. ‘I could do this all day long, no problem, but maybe we should actually try working together here, you get me?’

‘You may be right,’ Erik grunted, clutching at his sore ribs and trying to ignore the flare of pain from his gut. ‘Perhaps it’s time to put our differences aside.’

‘Yeah,’ Tony breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Truce?’

‘Truce,’ Erik agreed.

They hobbled towards each other and shook hands.

‘Right,’ Tony said once that was done, rubbing his hands together. ‘Let’s see what we can rustle up here. I’m thinking maybe a doohicky to expand the reach of your electromagnetic powers so you can zero in on your missing little lovebird and get a fix on his location. What do you say? Does that sound super-awesome to you or just plain normal awesome?’

Erik didn’t look overly impressed. ‘Neither,’ he said flatly, folding his arms over his chest. ‘Putting aside the fact that Charles might not even be wearing his family ring, I hardly think that waiting around for you to draw up a blueprint and then build a machine completely from scratch is a worthy use of our time.’

‘Don’t be too quick to rain on my parade, Mr. Killjoy,’ Tony drawled, looking completely unconcerned. ‘Cause I got the answers to all your problems right here.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘Firstly, there’s an easy way to figure out whether Charles has the ring or not. Just zip your fine ass over to your place and see if you can find the ring there. If it’s not there, then Charles has it.’

Erik grunted. ‘And if it is?’

Tony shrugged. ‘Well then we’re shit out of luck. But hey – let’s think positive here, Lehnsherr. Think _happy_ thoughts.’

‘Like stringing you up by your ankles over a shark-infested lake?’

‘Har har,’ Tony rolled his eyes. ‘This is really a hell of a time to choose to get a sense of humour.’

‘I do try,’ Erik said dryly. ‘Now – the second solution.’

‘Oh right, yeah. Well,’ Tony drew himself up and beamed. ‘That’s the beauty of the whole thing – I already have the blueprints all drawn up!’

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘What?’ he said flatly.

‘Well, it’s been in my head for a while now,’ Tony explained, looking eager. ‘Charles told me about Cerebro and how it helps expand his reach, and then we were talking about your use of electromagnetism and then I started thinking about a weird combination of the two …’

‘I see,’ Erik said, his face expressionless. ‘And you thought it would be a good idea if you did this all without telling me?’

‘… Surprise!’ Tony grinned at him, looking gleeful.

Erik did not grin back.

Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Anyway,’ he continued, unconcerned. ‘That’s the planning stage all ready and done, but as far as the actual building is concerned, I figure what with my technical know-how and your metal manipulation, we ought to be able to get this baby up in running in a few short hours. Heck – we’ll be done by lunchtime. Maybe we can go for shawarma. Are you in the mood for shawarma? I’m in the mood for shawarma. So. What do you say, Lehnsherr?’ he turned to Erik expectantly. ‘Am I awesome or am I awesome?’

Erik actually looked thoughtful. ‘I suppose your ideas aren’t _completely_ idiotic,’ he admitted after a moment, causing Tony to puff his chest out and grin.

‘Told you so,’ he said proudly. He then smirked at Erik. ‘See, now _this_ is why I am the brains of this operation, and why you are just the very scary-looking brawn part of the equation.’

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘Let’s just get on with this,’ he growled, throwing Tony a dirty look and striding forward towards Tony’s laboratory.

 

Two and a half hours later, Erik and Tony were lying flat on their backs, matching expressions of shocked bemusement on their faces as they took in the rubble and ash surrounding them, the remainder of what had once been Tony’s home laboratory.

‘Well shit,’ Tony said after a moment. 

Then, a minute later: ‘I guess that means no shawarma?’

The look Erik sent his way was more than an adequate answer.

*****

Four hours and two more failed attempts later, Erik turned to face Tony with a singed eyebrow raised high on his forehead.

‘Got any more bright ideas there, Stark?’ he grumbled, eyeing the hole in his maroon shirt unhappily.

Tony moodily kicked at a lump of scrap metal that was lying near his foot. ‘In general? Yeah, tonnes. About this piece of shit machine that keeps blowing up my lab? No. I really, really don’t.’ He sighed. ‘Maybe it’s time we changed tactics, Lehnsherr. Obviously this isn’t working for us. Maybe we need to do what – you know – _normal_ people do when this shit happens to them.’

‘What _do_ normal people do when this shit happens to them?’ Erik asked dubiously.

‘Well – and by the way I am _so_ not advocating this, Lehnsherr – they either go on a murderous rampage-’

‘Understandable,’ Erik gave a short nod.

‘Or – and this is like 99.9% of the time here – they reach out and ask for help.’

‘Help,’ Erik repeated, slowly rolling the word over in his mouth and grimacing at the sour taste. ‘I see. So you mean …’

‘Yup.’

‘You think we should-’

‘Yup.’

‘And if you’re thinking of the person that _I’m_ thinking of-’

‘Not a telepath but we are so totally sharing wavelengths here that I might as well be, so yup.’

‘And you really think-’

‘Absolutely,’ Tony declared, giving Erik a decisive nod. There was a pause. ‘Just so you know, though, I am _so_ not going to be the one to make that call.’

Erik’s eyes narrowed and his lip curled. ‘Coward,’ he sneered.

‘Whoa, hey now,’ Tony protested, ‘it’s not that at all. It’s just that my ears have already suffered through three explosions today and I just _really_ don’t feel like subjecting them to another.’

‘Well _I’m_ not going to do it.’

‘Christ, Lehnsherr,’ Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be such a baby.’

‘I’m not,’ Erik said coolly. ‘I’m just not going to be the one to make the call.’

‘Well neither am I!’

‘One of us has to.’

‘Well, it ain’t gonna be me!’

‘Then what the hell do you think we should do?’ Erik demanded crossly.

Their eyes met.

*****

‘What the fuck are you motherfuckers doing in my goddamn office?’

‘Nice to see you too, Nicky baby,’ Tony grinned as he strolled towards Nick Fury’s desk, his hands in his pockets and a genial smile on his face. ‘Long time no see.’

‘With good reason,’ Fury glowered at him, watching Tony narrowly as he approached his desk. ‘You think I _want_ to see you assholes on a regular basis?’

‘To be fair,’ Erik said mildly, straightening up from where he had been leaning against the wall, and nodding in Tony’s direction. ‘We weren’t all that keen on seeing you, either. We simply had no other alternatives.’

‘What, neither one of you motherfuckers know how to pick up a goddamn phone?’ Fury asked sarcastically.

Erik and Tony shared a glance.

‘Like I said,’ Erik said smoothly, without missing a beat. ‘There were no other alternatives.’

‘What he said,’ Tony agreed, nodding quickly.

Fury glared at them both for a minute before rubbing his forehead and sighing in resignation. ‘Fine. Make this fast,’ he grumbled, glaring at them from out of his one good eye. ‘I’m not spending any more time with you assholes than I need to.’

‘My sentiments exactly,’ Erik muttered under his breath. He nevertheless moved forward, coming to stand by Tony in front of Fury’s desk. ‘We need your help,’ he said aloud, directing his gaze at Fury and trying to convey the importance of the request. ‘Charles and Steve have gone missing. We need your help to find them.’

‘Yeah,’ Tony agreed. ‘Just point your covert and borderline-illegal satellites in the right direction and let us know where they are, and then we’ll handle the rest.’

Fury just looked at them. ‘So,’ he said at last. ‘Xavier and Rogers finally came to their senses, huh?’

Erik’s eyes narrowed and he glared at Fury.

Tony shrugged. ‘We’re just having a bit of trouble locating them, is all,’ he said casually. ‘It’s really no big deal.’

Fury raised an eyebrow. ‘And yet you march into _my_ office and demand that I help you find them by using _my_ resources and _my_ goddamn satellites.’

‘Yeah,’ Tony nodded slowly. ‘That sounds about right.’

Fury did not look impressed. ‘Stark, I am _not_ going to use my satellites to find out where your boyfriends have run off to so that you two motherfuckers can go and stalk them!’ he said flatly, eyeing them both with a dark expression. ‘Now get the hell out of my office before I throw your asses out myself.’

‘Aw, Nick, come on,’ Tony whined, mouth forming into a pout. ‘We’re just asking for one tiny favour-’

‘No.’

‘It’ll take _two minutes_ -’

‘ _Out_ , Stark.’

‘Oh come on, you should be _grateful_ that I didn’t just _hack_ into your goddamn satellites in the first place!’

Fury’s brow immediately darkened. Glaring at them, he pressed a discreet button on his desk and then bellowed, ‘Security!’

Immediately a team of a dozen men surged through the doors, forming a circle around the edges of the room, their weapons all trained on the two intruders inside Fury’s office.

Erik turned to Tony, looking completely unimpressed. ‘Nice going there, genius,’ he said sarcastically.

Tony glared at him. ‘Oh shut up,’ he grumbled, raising a hand to give him the finger, before being promptly tackled to the floor by an overenthusiastic member of the security team.

Erik sighed. ‘We’re going,’ he muttered, giving Fury a dark look, before casting a careless glance down at Tony struggling on the floor and then deliberately stepping over him on the way out of the office.

*****

‘So, what do you want to do tomorrow afternoon?’

‘Will we have time for anything?’ Charles asked, looking up from where he was carefully hanging a freshly-ironed shirt in his wardrobe. ‘After all, Dr. Doom’s fundraising gala is tomorrow night.’

‘I know,’ Steve smiled as he watched Charles move about. ‘But we have the morning free. We may as well make use of it.’

Charles glanced around and returned his smile. ‘Well then, if you’re sure. It will be nice to relax a little before, I think.’ He then cocked his head. ‘You know, it’s always struck me as a rather unfortunate name, Dr. Doom. It’s rather … ominous.’

‘We shouldn’t judge books by their covers, Charles,’ Steve said mildly. ‘But I know what you mean. Poor fella probably had a rough time as a kid.’

Charles, knowing what Steve was thinking about, smiled kindly and reached over to lay a gentle hand on his arm. ‘But now he’s throwing multi-million dollar benefits for the disadvantaged,’ he said bracingly. ‘And _you_ , darling, are currently in a loving relationship with someone who makes you wonderfully happy.’

‘Yes,’ Steve put his hand over Charles’s, squeezing it slightly. ‘I am.’

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, smiling at each other.

‘You know,’ Charles said after a minute, lowering his lashes slightly, ‘There’s supposed to be a rather lovely art exhibition in town this week.’

Steve brightened. ‘Do you want to go?’

‘I’d certainly like to,’ Charles smiled, before wrinkling his nose fondly. ‘It’s been a while since I last went to one.’

‘Same here,’ Steve agreed feelingly. ‘Tomorrow, then?’

‘Tomorrow,’ Charles decided. Then he cocked his head, pausing. ‘Huh,’ he said, sounding surprised. ‘That was … unexpectedly easy.’

Steve smiled, a small twinkle in his eye, and he caught Charles gently by the hand. ‘Anything to make you make you happy, dear.’

Charles grinned. ‘Thank you, darling.’

And the rest of the afternoon was spent in easy domestic bliss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd post this before I went on holiday. Hope you enjoy :)

‘So,’ Tony said later when they were both sprawled out on the balcony of his mansion, a trail of empty liquor bottles littering the way there like a path of breadcrumbs. ‘What do we do now?’

‘I don’t know,’ Erik said gloomily, lying on his back and gazing dully up at the night sky. ‘But I suppose that tearing down the largest building in every town from here to Bermuda and remoulding them all in the shape of Charles’s face is a terrible idea?’

‘What?’ Tony’s head jerked up and he turned to face Erik. ‘Are you kidding me? That’s an _awesome_ idea!’

Erik looked surprised. ‘Really?’ he asked, sounding vaguely astonished. ‘Are you sure?’

‘ _Sure_ I’m sure,’ Tony reached out and clapped Erik on the back. ‘That, my friend, is a _genius_ idea. And believe me, I ought to know.’

‘Hmm,’ Erik contemplated this for a minute before letting out a sigh. ‘You know, Charles never takes my suggestions very seriously,’ he confessed, sounding slightly mournful. ‘I think he tends to stop listening whenever I start talking about tearing down buildings ...’

‘Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of demolition,’ Tony said reassuringly, sounding surprisingly earnest. ‘I mean sure, you have to check that there’s no one actually _in_ the building before you tear it down-’

‘Unless they’re human,’ Erik nodded.

Tony blinked. ‘Um – no, buddy. Just – what?’

Erik sighed. ‘Charles doesn’t like when I say things like that, either,’ he said sadly. 

‘Yeah … Charlie might have a point about that one,’ Tony said a little awkwardly. Then he shook himself. ‘The point is – he’s not right about _everything_.’

Erik’s vague expression immediately morphed into an indignant scowl, but he very quickly found that it was hard to sustain such a feeling of irritation when faced with the sight of a thousand twinkly stars glimmering amiably above him. His expression promptly wilted. ‘Shut up,’ he muttered instead, feeling decidedly grumpy. ‘Charles is – Charles is _perfection_.’

Tony wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t know,’ he mused, scratching his chin contemplatively. ‘I mean, he could stand to be a little taller …’

Erik’s eyes narrowed in outrage. ‘Like _you_ can talk, Stark,’ he growled, turning to face Tony with a glare. ‘You know absolutely nothing. Charles is the _perfect_ height. Don’t you dare say otherwise.’

Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah, my lips are sealed,’ he drawled. Unfortunately, he didn’t mean permanently. ‘No more talk about Charles’s flaws – which, of course, are non-existent. Gotcha.’

Erik attempted to glare at him again but frankly he couldn’t work up the energy, so he just sighed and closed his eyes.

There was silence for a few brief, comfortable minutes. Tony, naturally, was the one to break it.

‘So … what do you think they’re doing right now?’ he wondered aloud, gazing up at the sky distractedly.

Erik frowned, opening one eye. ‘I’m not-’

‘Apart from having lots of hot, sweaty, athletic sex, obviously,’ Tony continued, sounding more than a little mournful. ‘I mean, there’s clearly loads of _that_ going on. I mean, come on – they’re both really stupidly hot, and I _know_ that Charles has checked Steve’s ass out on more than one occasion-’

‘Hey!’ Erik immediately snapped, incensed. ‘The only ass Charles checks out is _me_ – I mean – _mine_!’

Tony sniggered stupidly at that, coming across as more Drunk-Immature-Delinquent than Respected-Billionaire-Businessman-And-Freaking- _Iron-Man_. ‘Sure, buddy,’ he said, patting Erik on the nearest place he could reach and chortling. ‘I completely agree. You’re absolutely the only ass that Charles checks out. One hundred percent. You said it, not me.’

The withering glare that Erik sent his way would have probably chilled Tony to his very core if Erik had been sober enough to aim it in the right direction.

‘ _Anyway_ ,’ Tony waved a hand vaguely around in the air. ‘I’m being serious now. What do you think they’re doing together? Right now, I mean. Without us.’ His tone was unexpectedly solemn and subdued.

Erik frowned and rubbed at his bleary eyes for a moment before sighing. ‘They’re probably on a date,’ he said unhappily, having already given this matter a rather excruciating amount of thought. ‘In some fancy, horribly-overpriced restaurant that serves ridiculously small portions, and where neither of them will be thrown out for “disrupting the atmosphere” or “threatening the patrons”.’ He glowered at the sky as he recalled a personal experience of a similar nature which had occurred shortly after he had met Charles. The memory of it still stung years later, despite the number of times that Charles had reassured him that he had actually found the whole incident really rather funny. 

‘Oh yeah,’ Tony said with feeling. ‘We’ve all been there, buddy.’ He then sighed. ‘You know, maybe we should just-’

But Erik wasn’t finished. ‘And now they’re probably walking through the park,’ he said darkly, feeling his fists begin to clench at the thought of Imaginary Charles and Imaginary Steve walking together in the midst of flower-strewn greenery. ‘And they’re probably holding hands.’ The angry spark in his eyes suddenly dimmed a little. ‘Charles always did love to hold hands,’ he murmured mournfully, stroking his own left hand in bittersweet nostalgia.

‘Right,’ Tony said dryly. ‘How about we -’

‘And maybe they don’t even stop there,’ Erik continued, a slightly unhinged glint in his eyes. ‘Why would they? They’re free to do whatever they want whenever they want, so you know what that means?’

‘Um …?’

‘It _means_ ,’ Erik’s face took on an almost alarming expression of wretchedness and misery. ‘That they’re probably at a _museum_.’

Tony blinked. ‘Huh,’ he said, looking vaguely surprised. ‘I thought for sure that the answer to that one would be that they were _fuc_ -’

‘They’re at a museum,’ Erik continued determinedly, the wine doing much to fuel his imagination. ‘Or at some sort of an art gallery or some other kind of dull exhibition – no doubt surrounded by a bunch of brainless _humans_ with more money than sense – and they’re probably being perfectly charming and cultured and witty, and actually giving a fuck about which idiot painted what and who sculpted that, and not getting into trouble with the security guards, and -’

‘Okay, you know what – that’s enough, Mr. Life-of-the-party, we get it,’ Tony groaned, hiding his head in his hands. ‘They’re both out there being adorable and fuzzy-wuzzy boring old farts, while we’re here drunk out of our minds and contemplating restructuring giant skyscrapers into the faces of our exes. Got it.’ He then cocked his head to the side. ‘Also, you get kind of disparaging about humans when you’re drunk, you know that? It’s actually a little insulting.’

Erik ignored him. ‘Maybe _I_ should have been more of a boring old fart,’ he mumbled sadly, gazing up at the sky and wondering what it was that he had done to have offended the universe so much that it had felt the need to take away his Charles from him. ‘Maybe then Charles and I would have had more in common …’

Tony let out a loud and obnoxious snort. ‘Oh, yeah, don’t worry – you’re a boring old fart, alright,’ he assured Erik. ‘ _That’s_ not the part you have trouble with, pal. It’s the adorable, fuzzy-wuzzy bit.’

Erik looked almost hurt by that so Tony winced and hastily backtracked. ‘Not that you’re not – you know. Fuzzy and all that. It’s just – not so much, you know? Just – maybe – fuzzy in a really, really, creepy, scary way?’

Erik’s head thunked back against the cold stone floor of Tony’s balcony and he let out a groan of despair. And it was with that that Tony decided that he’d had enough. Not so much because he was worried about Erik’s emotional wellbeing, but more because Lehnsherr had a ridiculously hard head and Tony really, really liked this balcony.

‘Right,’ Tony said abruptly, sitting up. ‘Do you know what we should do?’ 

Erik blinked and then slowly rotated his head so that he was looking at Tony. ‘What?’ he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

Tony met his gaze, unflinching. ‘You and me,’ he said confidently. ‘We should have a bros night out.’

‘A … bros night out,’ Erik repeated blankly.

‘Yeah,’ Tony grinned, leaning forward with growing enthusiasm. ‘To get rid of the moping and sulking and the crying-like-a-little-girl thing you do-’ He waved off Erik’s snarl, appearing completely unfazed by it. ‘Seriously, Lehnsherr, it’ll be _awesome_. In fact, it’s going to be _better_ than awesome. It’ll be _epic_. Tell you what,’ Tony seemed to wriggle on the spot in his eagerness, ‘We’ll open this thing up. I’ll get hold of Bruce and Clint and Thor, and _you_ get …’ He paused and then frowned. ‘You get …’ He screwed his face up in concentration and poked his tongue out of his mouth. ‘You … get whoever you can,’ he finished in a manner that was almost diplomatic for someone named Tony Stark.

Erik glared at him, the implication not escaping him. ‘I have friends,’ he said defensively, scowling.

Tony reached out and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Sure you do,’ he said in a very encouraging and not at all sarcastic way. ‘I know you do, buddy.’

‘I _do_!’ Erik protested. ‘There’s Hank and Alex and Moira-’

‘Those are _Charles’s_ friends, big guy.’

‘Fine,’ Erik snapped. ‘I have Emma and Janos and Azazel …’

Tony actually looked thoughtful. ‘Okay, Azazel I’ll give you,’ he conceded after a moment. ‘And I suppose if you get one you get the other, so I’ll allow Janos too. But – and I’m sorry to have to break it to you, Magsy – Emma Frost doesn’t actually _have_ friends.’ He paused. ‘And even if she did, she’d totally be _Charles’s_ friend, not yours.’

Erik scowled. ‘I hate you,’ he muttered, glaring down at the floor. He then added in an almost inaudible rumble, ‘And don’t call me Magsy.’

Tony grinned. ‘Whatever you say, _Magneto_.’

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘As if _Iron Man_ is any better,’ he sneered. ‘I bet you haven’t done a piece of ironing in your life!’

Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Not _that_ type of iron, asshole.’

‘And it shows!’ Erik sniffed, eyeing Tony’s creased shirt with distaste. He himself would never be caught dead going anywhere without a crisp, neatly ironed shirt, he thought snidely. Anything less than clean lines and even pleats would be sacrilege, and anyone who thought otherwise ought to be suspended by their ankles from a very tall tower over a shark-infested lake. 

… Okay, so maybe he wasn’t so very strict about the dress code when it came to Charles, he thought indulgently, but then – unlike Tony – Charles could pull off the adorable, deliciously-rumpled look without even trying.

Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, whatever, asshole, I don’t actually give a fuck. Now, I’m going to call the guys. Are you in or not?’

Erik glowered at him for a moment, only vaguely aware of the flare of warning from the miniscule part of his brain that still remained unhappily sober. ‘… Fine,’ he said at last, sounding reluctant. ‘Count me in.’

Tony beamed. ‘Awesome,’ he said cheerfully, pulling his phone out of his pocket and starting to dial. ‘I promise you, Lehnsherr, it’s going to be a blast. You won’t regret this. Tonight is going to _blow your mind_.’

**…**

Five punch-ups, two club blacklistings and a police car chase through the city later, Erik resolved to always, _always_ follow his gut on matters like these and to absolutely _never_ ever go anywhere with Tony Stark and his bunch of degenerate friends ever again.

*****

_Meanwhile …_

 

Following their pleasant visit to the afternoon art exhibition, Charles and Steve had finished a very peaceful dinner at a very elegant and expensive restaurant (although they had both agreed that the portions were ludicrously small) and had finished it with a leisurely stroll through the nearby park before making their way to the fundraising gala held by a certain notorious Dr. Doom. 

It was here that, through some skilful shuffling and manoeuvring, they found themselves addressing the man of the hour himself, and engaging him in pleasant if somewhat trivial conversation.

‘That Van Gogh on the wall there sure is something,’ Steve said, addressing Dr. Doom with a sincere, ingratiating smile.

Doom barely glanced over at it. ‘I bought it on a whim,’ he said lightly, waving a careless hand in the air. ‘And now I am donating it. Also on a whim.’

‘It is very generous of you,’ Charles said with an easy smile, before deciding to up the ante on the flattery. ‘And I am sure that your country benefits greatly from having such benevolence in its head of state.’

Doom looked almost touched by the sentiment. ‘Indeed,’ he nodded, inclining his head graciously at Charles. ‘I am indeed a kind and benevolent ruler. I am pleased that you noticed this, Mr …?’

‘Xavier,’ Charles smiled, holding out a hand. ‘Charles Xavier. And it’s “Doctor”, actually.’

‘Oh?’ Doom looked interested. ‘And what are you a doctor of, _Dr_. Xavier.’

‘I’m a geneticist,’ Charles said, smiling at Dr. Doom.

‘Ah,’ Doom looked speculative. ‘This is indeed fortunate. We have need of geneticists in my country.’

Charles blinked but his smile did not waver.

‘I’m Steve Rogers,’ Steve introduced himself when Doom turned to face him. ‘I’m – er – a football player.’ He and Charles had discussed what to say in advance and had come to the decision that it might be safer on the whole if they left out the details of Steve’s highly decorated military career when in the presence of the existing company. The fact that it wasn’t exactly a lie – Steve did indeed play football – meant that Steve’s conscience wasn’t unduly pricked by the fib. It also meant that he didn’t get the ill-at-ease red-faced look that he usually got when attempting to tell a lie, which, on the whole, was of much greater concern.

Doom nodded gravely at the information. ‘Ah,’ he said again. ‘We have need of football players in my country, too.’

Charles and Steve shared a blank look.

‘… Right,’ Charles said, looking a little dubious. He sent a tendril of thought towards Doom but Doom’s current thoughts were nothing but pleasant and affable. ‘So,’ he decided to move the conversation forward. ‘Charitable pursuits aside, what brings you so far from home, Doctor?’

‘Business,’ said Doom. _POWER_ , said Doom’s brain.

‘Not pleasure, then?’ Steve inquired politely.

‘Just business,’ answered Doom. _POWER_ , answered Doom’s brain.

Charles was beginning to believe that Dr. Doom possessed a very one-track mind.

‘Do tell me more,’ Charles murmured pleasantly and Doom, in apparent delight, began to open his mouth.

Twenty very long, self-congratulatory minutes later, Charles and Steve finally realised why it had been so very easy to approach Doom and engage him in conversation.

The reason was that nobody else _wanted_ to.

**…**

Two hours later, Charles and Steve walked out of the gala ballroom, their eyes bleary and their expressions dazed.

‘Uncle Sam has asked me to do a hell of a lot in my time,’ Steve said hoarsely as they walked down the cobbled steps, his legs slightly shaky. ‘But I’m pretty sure that _that_ has to have been the dullest.’

‘Forget the thumbscrews,’ Charles muttered. ‘That guy would have me coughing up all our secrets in _minutes_.’

‘Did we at least get anything useful?’ Steve asked, trying to straighten his shoulders and wincing at the crick in his neck.

‘Yes. No. Maybe,’ Charles grimaced. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll have to get back to you on that – my brain appears to have turned to mush.’ He took a minute to think and then nodded. ‘I think we got what we came for,’ he said after a moment. ‘Remember about an hour into his monologue when he was telling us about how he plucked a rare bonsai tree from a cliffside in Japan?’

Steve shuddered. ‘Yeah, I remember.’

‘Well, I think that gives us what we’ve been looking for. He said that it happened just a few weeks ago, and we know that Doom doesn’t go abroad without good reason. If he was in Japan-’

‘Then he was there for a specific purpose,’ Steve finished. His eyes looked a great deal brighter than they had five minutes ago. ‘I think you’re right, Charles. This makes sense. It makes a _lot_ of sense, especially considering what we know.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Well. Maybe we didn’t suffer for nothing.’

‘ _I’m_ happier about the fact that we won’t ever have to talk to him again,’ Charles said dryly. He let out a sigh. ‘Quite honestly, if I never see Dr. Doom ever again it will still be too soon …’

Naturally, that was the moment that he was tackled to the ground by what seemed to be half a dozen goons wearing too much black lycra. 

_Oh bollocks_ , he thought glumly as he heard Steve let out a cry of surprise. And then everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter! Have an extra long update to make up for it :)

Nick Fury sat at his desk, resisting the urge to bury his head in his hands.

‘And you’re _sure_ we can’t contact them?’ he demanded, trying not to feel as if he was grasping at straws. ‘You’re absolutely sure that there’s nothing we can do?’

‘Not without breaking the treaty with Latveria, sir,’ Agent Maria Hill informed him evenly, looking completely calm and unruffled. ‘Unfortunately, something tells me that we won’t be getting permission to do that in this case. Sir.’

Fury closed his one good eye and grimaced. ‘Godammit,’ he muttered under his breath, feeling thoroughly annoyed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had sent in a goddamn super-soldier and a motherfucking telepath to _prevent_ shit like this from happening. Big fucking help _that_ had been.

He glowered down at the floor, wondering why on earth he had ever thought that being the director of a top-secret crime-fighting organisation would ever be easy. It probably all came down to huge, massive fucking blind-spot he had concerning his own personal inability to delegate, he thought morosely. That was something that he really ought to get around to rectifying at some point – for his blood pressure if not for the sake of efficiency.

He paused then, considering. Perhaps things _would_ be a little easier if he relinquished a bit of control, he mused. Not too much, of course – he wasn’t about to turn S.H.I.E.L.D.’s controls over to the group of total _morons_ that he worked with. But still, the fact remained: things would be a lot easier for him if he could just bring himself to delegate more. There would be less weight on his shoulders and, if he was very lucky, he might even be able to get a little time off. He could read a few novels, get a massage, watch something on TV that wasn’t the news … hell, maybe even take that little fishing trip that he had lately found himself dreaming about so very often …

Yes, he thought, as the idea solidified in his mind. Delegation seemed to be the way forward. He could do it. He _would_ do it. In fact, he thought grimly, he would get started on that right away.

Decision made, he slowly lifted his head up and looked at Agent Hill, who was still standing in front of him, patiently waiting for her boss to get over whatever striking personal revelation that had befallen him, and looking as cool as a fucking cucumber as she did so.

Fury found himself pausing at the sight of her, allowing a small nugget of doubt to enter his mind. Delegating to someone of Hill’s calibre and competence was one thing, but what he currently had in mind … He frowned. It was very possible that he was about to make an inexcusable, horrible, completely terrible mistake. The thought troubled him, so he glared at Agent Hill, hoping that the power of his glare would help to clear his doubts. 

Hill, being used to it, didn’t so much as twitch.

They stared at each other for a minute.

Then Fury closed his eyes and let out a sigh of resignation. ‘Agent Hill,’ he barked, even as his shoulders slumped in weary defeat, ‘Get those assholes Stark and Lehnsherr on the phone. We’re going to need those motherfuckers to bust their boyfriends out of motherfucking Latveria.’

Agent Hill nodded, not looking at all fazed by the order. ‘The message was sent out approximately five minutes ago,’ she said coolly, clearly meaning, _**I** sent that message out five minutes ago while you had your own head up your ass_ , before then casually tagging on a much belated, slightly unconvincing, ‘Sir.’

And that, Fury thought glumly as Hill made her way out of his office, was why he found it so very hard to delegate: everyone around him – and he meant absolutely _everyone_ – was a completely unrepentant _asshole_.

*****

‘What the fuck do you mean, Charles and Steve are in Latveria?’

Fury sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I _mean_ ,’ he said irritably, ‘That _Charles and Steve are in fucking Latveria_.’

‘Well what the fuck are they doing there?’ Tony demanded, hands on his hips and eyebrows high on his forehead.

‘That’s what _I_ want to fucking know,’ Fury growled, glaring at the two men in his office. ‘They weren’t supposed to be there! They were supposed to attend a motherfucking benefit in fucking _Salzburg_!’

Tony and Erik’s heads instantly shot up.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, _whoa_ ,’ Tony did an exaggerated double-take. ‘ _Supposed to_? What do you mean, _supposed to_?’

‘What aren’t you telling us, Fury?’ Erik demanded, his eyes narrowing even as his expression darkened ominously. ‘You didn’t simply locate them as a favour to us. What the hell are Steve and Charles doing?’

Fury regarded them closely for a moment before slowly folding his arms across his chest. ‘Mr. Rogers and Dr. Xavier are engaged in a top-secret mission for S.H.I.E.L.D.,’ he said calmly, watching Erik and Tony as his words sank in. ‘The assignment was last-minute and high-priority and they had to leave straight away.’ He paused. ‘Needless to say, they didn’t have time to tell you boys anything before they left.’

‘And you didn’t think to tell us this before?’ Erik growled at once, balling his hands into fists and causing the various metal instruments on Fury’s desk to shudder. ‘You didn’t think to _mention_ it when we came by?’

Fury raised a deeply unimpressed eyebrow, not in the least bit intimidated. ‘The details of the mission were revealed only on a need to know basis,’ he said blandly. ‘And you two gentlemen did not need to know.’

‘Like hell we didn’t!’ Tony snapped. ‘We thought that the two of them had run away together!’

‘Oh, that’s still _entirely_ possible,’ Nick said dryly, eyeing them with derision. ‘It just so happens that _this_ little elopement of theirs was sanctioned.’

‘And yet you didn’t think to tell us this when we came to you?’ Erik’s voice was cold and hard, and a lesser man might have been floored by the anger in his gaze.

Fury, however, was not a lesser man. ‘Like I said,’ he said calmly. ‘Need-to-know.’

‘So what – you’re breaking the rules for us now?’ Tony demanded, looking at Nick suspiciously. ‘This thing has stopped being need-to-know?’

‘Oh, it’s still need-to-know,’ Fury corrected him. ‘It just so happens that you two gentlemen now fall into that privileged and highly select group.’ He paused and raised an eyebrow at them. ‘Congratulations,’ he drawled.

‘Bake us a fucking cake, why don’t you,’ Tony muttered before glaring at Fury. ‘So what’s changed here? Why are we suddenly part of this super-top-secret-VIPs-only bullshit now?’

Fury’s expression tightened. ‘We may have … run into a little trouble,’ he said guardedly.

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘What sort of trouble exactly?’ he said, his voice cold.

Fury met his eyes. ‘The kind where your boyfriends have been kidnapped by the goddamn loony dictator of Latveria and are now out of reach of all of our communications. _That_ sort of trouble.’

Erik and Tony stared at him blankly.

‘Are you serious?’ Tony said after a long moment of silence, looking at Fury in disbelief. ‘Are really being completely serious right now? They’ve been kidnapped by fucking _Victor von Doom_?’

‘I see you’re familiar with him,’ Fury remarked, his tone deliberately light. ‘I guess all you batshit-crazy egomaniacal assholes have some sort of a club, huh?’

‘You’d be the fucking president if we did,’ Tony growled. ‘Damn it Fury, just come out and say it. What the hell’s happened to our boys?’

Fury sighed. ‘I basically just told you what we know,’ he admitted. ‘Charles and Steve were meant to scope out Doom at his gala in Salzburg – the details are irrelevant-’

‘We’ll be the judge of that,’ Erik said coldly.

‘I _said_ the _motherfucking details_ are _irrelevant_ ,’ Fury growled. ‘Believe me, if I thought that it would somehow help us in this matter then I would damn well _say_ so. All Xavier and Rogers were supposed to do is engage Doom in conversation and then get the fuck out of there. Instead, those two morons ended up getting _kidnapped_.’

‘Charles is not a moron!’ Erik immediately hissed, looking incensed by the accusation.

‘Neither is Steve,’ Tony added dutifully, albeit with slightly less passion and vehemence.

‘The point is,’ Fury said loudly, deliberately ignoring them, ‘We have no idea why the two of them have been kidnapped. They were supposed to be inconspicuous – Doom shouldn’t have suspected a thing.’

Tony was shaking his head. ‘It doesn’t make any fucking sense,’ he said, frowning. ‘Even if Doom had figured them out it doesn’t explain why he kidnapped them. I mean, I hear the guy’s _real_ choosy about who he allows into Latveria – there’s no way that he would bring along a couple of _spies_ if he didn’t need to.’

‘Oh, I’ll tell you why,’ Erik said grimly, his jaw tense. ‘I’ll tell you why he kidnapped Charles and Steve. He kidnapped them because those idiots were too damn charming for their own good.’

Fury stared at him. ‘What?’ he said flatly.

But Tony was nodding along. ‘That makes sense,’ he was saying seriously. ‘They probably charmed him with all their-’ he waved a hand vaguely about his face ‘- _charmingness_ and so naturally Doom couldn’t resist.’ He turned to Erik. ‘That bastard fucking _kidnapped_ them.’

‘Damn it, Charles,’ Erik scowled. ‘I’ve _told_ him over and over again that he should never smile at _anyone_ except for me. People get _ideas_.’

‘And Steve probably wasn’t any better,’ Tony said glumly. ‘He probably _thanked_ that asshole afterwards for making sure his restraints weren’t on too tight.’

‘You’re joking right?’ Fury interrupted them, looking between Erik and Tony with a complete lack of amusement. ‘You’re not seriously suggesting that two of my agents have been kidnapped because they were too fucking _charming_ for their own good?’ 

Erik glared at him. ‘You don’t get to talk,’ he growled. ‘This is all _your_ fault anyway.’

‘Yeah,’ Tony agreed, also turning his own glare on Fury. ‘Why the hell did you send the two of them, anyway? Steve and I could have done it. Or Charles and Erik. Or even _me_ and Erik. Why did you have to pick the two of _them_?’

Fury’s jaw tightened. ‘You want the truth?’ he demanded, scowling. 

Erik and Tony nodded.

‘Fine,’ Fury snapped. ‘Then I’ll tell you. I chose them because, unlike the two of you, Xavier and Rogers aren’t complete and utter _assholes_.’ Fury glared as Tony and Erik looked at him in surprise. He continued. ‘Look at this from my perspective – they follow orders, they don’t whine and bitch endlessly if things don’t go their way – and also, they don’t _constantly blow shit up_.’ He then paused for a brief moment, before shrugging and adding on as if in afterthought, ‘Also, out of the four of you, the two of them make the most convincing couple.’

‘ _What?_ ’ both Erik and Tony stared at him, appalled.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Erik said flatly.

‘Deadly.’ Fury’s tone was, if possible, even flatter.

‘No, really,’ Tony said, folding his arms over his chest. ‘Pull the other one. What’s wrong with us?’

‘Seriously?’ Nick turned to face him. ‘Would _you_ assholes go out with yourselves if you had the choice?’

‘Fuck no,’ Tony waved him off. ‘But then, like you said, I’m an asshole, so it’s not all that surprising.’ He paused. ‘And I think it’s pretty obvious that _no one_ would go out with Lehnsherr if they didn’t have to.’

‘Hey!’ Erik glared.

‘… I mean, at least _I_ have billions of dollars to my name, but Lehnsherr? That’s one heck of a raw deal.’

‘At least I know that Charles isn’t with me for my money!’ Erik hissed.

‘No, you’re with him for _his_ ,’ Tony shot back. ‘Plus, have you _met_ Steve? Do you _really_ think that guy’s after money? Seriously, Lehnsherr?’

‘And yet you dare to think that _I_ would choose Charles for _his_ money?’ Erik’s face had gone white with rage. ‘You dare think that _anyone_ would want Charles solely for his _money_? When he’s the-’

‘The epitome of all perfection, yada yada,’ Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah buddy, we’ve heard it all before.’

‘Silence, you imbecile!’ Erik hissed. ‘I will not have Charles spoken about in that way!’

‘Yeah, well, I won’t have _my ass_ -’

They were interrupted by the sound of fist thudding against a hard wooden surface.

‘Gentlemen, I am _not_ your goddamn marriage counsellor and this is _not_ motherfucking couple’s therapy,’ Fury bellowed, leaning against his desk and looking not in the least bit amused. He waited until Tony and Erik had turned to look at him before glaring at them. ‘While you two morons have been standing around and bitching at each other, two of my best agents – your _boyfriends_ – have been kidnapped by a goddamn psychopathic dictator and shipped off to motherfucking Latveria, so if you two assholes ever want to see Xavier and Rogers ever again you need to shut the fuck up and _listen_ or else get the hell out of my office!’

Erik and Tony stared at him.

‘Wow,’ Tony said, blinking rapidly.

‘There’s no need to be rude,’ Erik grumbled sullenly.

‘Yeah,’ Tony added, ‘Keep your hair o- oh, wait. Never mind.’

Fury glared at them. ‘Have you two clowns finished?’ he demanded.

Tony turned to Erik. ‘Are we finished? Yeah, we’re finished,’ he turned to Fury and nodded. ‘Lay it on us, baby.’

‘S.H.I.E.L.D’s hands are tied,’ Fury told them, leaning heavily on his desk. ‘Treaties with Latveria mean that any official operation will provoke an epic shitstorm that nobody’s got time for-’

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘So what you’re basically saying is that Doom can simply kidnap our citizens with impunity but when it comes to _us_ creating problems …’

‘You think I’m happy about this Lehnsherr?’ Fury snapped, his spine stiffening in anger. ‘You think I _like_ having that asshole Doom doing whatever the fuck he wants in my goddamn territory? You think I _like_ having my hands tied? Because I’ve got news for you, son – I _don’t_ like it. I _really_ don’t like it. But that’s the way things are and I just got to deal with it and suck it up. You understand?’

Erik glowered at him but he didn’t say anything.

‘Good,’ Fury ran a tired hand over his face. ‘Well then, gentlemen, all that’s left for me to do is wish you the best of luck.’

‘Whoa, wait – what?’ Tony blinked at Fury, bemused.

‘Luck for what?’ Erik asked, narrowing his eyes.

Fury stared at them for a moment. ‘You guys are fucking kidding me, right?’ he demanded, narrowing his eyes. ‘You come here banging down on my door asking me to find your boys for you so that you can go and haul their asses back home, and then when I practically serve them up for you on a platter all you can do is just stand there with your dicks in your hands saying “huh”?’ He glared at them. ‘What do you want me to do, go knock on Doom’s door myself? Maybe wash your car for you while I’m at it?’

Tony actually looked thoughtful. ‘Well, if you’re offering …’

Fury scowled at him. ‘Get the fuck out of my office,’ he snapped, sounding completely pissed off.

‘But aren’t you-’ Erik began, only to be cut off.

‘I’ve done more than enough for you assholes,’ Fury said firmly. ‘I told you, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands are tied. And besides,’ Fury’s jaw twitched. ‘I’m _delegating_.’

And with that he all but shoved Erik and Tony out of his office, slamming the door firmly shut behind him.

‘Delegating my ass,’ Tony grumbled, straightening his shirt as he righted himself. ‘That guy hasn’t delegated a single thing in his life. He’s a total control-freak. He probably wiped his own ass as a baby.’

Erik, however, wasn’t paying attention. ‘We need a plan,’ he said, looking pensive. ‘We need to figure out how to get Charles and Steve out of Latveria.’

‘Right,’ Tony rubbed his hands together. ‘Well I’ve got this thing that I’ve been working on and I haven’t got the chance to test it yet-’

‘No.’

‘Oh come on, you don’t even know what-’

‘ _No_.’

‘Fine,’ Tony looked sulky. ‘Forget about it. Don’t blame me if it takes us forever to come up with a plan, though, Mr. Shoot-Down-All-the-Best-Ideas. Which means all _my_ ideas, by the way, in case you were wondering.’

‘I wasn’t,’ Erik said shortly.

‘You totally were, but I guess I’ll let this one go.’

Erik wheeled on him. ‘Can’t you be serious for one goddamn minute?’ he snarled, his entire body tense. ‘Did you not hear what Fury said?’

Tony’s expression grew solemn. ‘Of course I did,’ he said, fidgeting and looking down at the floor. ‘You know I did.’

‘Then you know that Charles and Steve have been kidnapped by a goddamn _psychopath_ who lives in the middle of nowhere!’ Erik hissed, tightening his hands into fists in agitation. His face then creased up tragically. ‘My poor Charles …’ he said mournfully.

‘And Steve,’ Tony muttered, still looking down at his feet. 

Erik ignored him and instead gazed painfully off into the distance. ‘He must be so very frightened and alone right now …’ he said sadly.

Tony blinked. ‘… Alone _with Steve_.’

‘Probably wondering why this has happened to him …’

‘… And Steve.’

‘He’s probably suffering,’ Erik said unhappily, ignoring Tony. ‘Completely stranded, not knowing when help will come …’ He took a deep, ragged breath. ‘In fact,’ he said, his voice choking. ‘He’s probably being tortured right now …’

*****

‘Welcome to my mighty capital, the city of Doomstadt!’ Victor von Doom declared proudly, sweeping a hand across the hall in a wide, expansive gesture. ‘I bid you welcome, Mr. Rogers and Dr. Xavier. I am most gratified to have you with me.’

Charles and Steve shared a covert glance from where they were seated next to one another, each looking as nonplussed as the other.

‘Um,’ Steve began hesitantly. ‘Dr. Doom-’

‘Please, call me Victor.’

‘Er – _Victor_ ,’ Steve acknowledged, scratching his head dazedly. ‘I don’t mean to be rude or anything …’ He glanced around perplexedly. ‘I guess I’m just kind of confused. What exactly are Charles and I doing here?’

‘I think what Steve here is trying to ask,’ Charles added, his voice calm and extremely pleasant, ‘Is why the bloody hell you kidnapped us and brought us all the way over here. _Victor_.’

‘Ah, my friends,’ Dr. Doom shook his head. ‘You undervalue yourselves. Men with such abilities as yours are surely welcome in every nation that is lucky enough to receive you.’

‘Yes, but-’

‘We are proud that you have chosen to grace us with your presence, and we look forward to showing you the majesty of beautiful Latveria!’

Steve frowned and leaned towards Charles. ‘He _does_ know that he’s kidnapped us, right?’ he asked, looking dubious.

‘I’m not even sure that Latveria recognises kidnapping as a crime,’ Charles muttered back. ‘Not unless this nutcase decides it.’

‘Can’t you,’ Steve made a subtle wiggling motion with his fingers. ‘You know. _Do_ something?’

Charles wilted slightly. ‘Sadly not,’ he said, pouting a little. ‘It appears that that ridiculous and otherwise completely unnecessary mask of his is actually telepathy-resistant.’

Steve’s eyes widened. ‘You mean that he _knows_ -’

‘No,’ Charles said quickly. ‘I don’t think so. It’s just a matter of luck on his part, really. And the fact that he refuses to take that stupid thing off.’ He scowled. ‘Like the time that Erik insisted on going everywhere and parading up and down wearing that stupid magenta cloak of his.’ Sadly, Charles’s words came off sounding more wistful than irritated.

‘I never had that problem with Tony,’ Steve confided with a rueful smile. ‘With Tony it’s more of a struggle getting him to keep his clothes _on_ …’

It was at this point that they realised that Dr. Doom was _still_ addressing them, oblivious to their conversation, and so they dutifully turned back around and tuned back in to whatever it was that Doom was saying – words which he appeared to be accompanying with wide and expansive gestures.

‘… And,’ Doom was saying proudly, ‘I have decided that, in honour of your presence in my glorious country, you will be able to witness the wonder and majesty of our world-famous Doomsday, which I have decided shall be in two days from now!’

He paused then, as if expecting a round of thunderous applause at his announcement.

‘Er – thanks?’ Steve offered belatedly, looking slightly bemused.

Dr. Doom preened.

Charles, meanwhile, looked ever so slightly upset. ‘Oh dear,’ he sighed, his mouth turned down unhappily. ‘Two days from now … that’s Thursday. Erik and I always have Thursday as date night.’

‘There there,’ Steve patted Charles’s shoulder sympathetically. ‘I’m sure we’ll figure something out by then.’ Then, because he couldn’t help his curiosity, ‘You two have regular date nights?’

‘Yes,’ Charles’s mouth tugged up in a fond smile. ‘We make it a point to. Otherwise we’re both liable to get caught up in our work and then we’d never see each other.’ 

‘That sounds nice,’ Steve said with genuine warmth. ‘With Tony things are more … spontaneous. Which is actually kinda nice, too.’ He shrugged. ‘It keeps things interesting.’

‘Not that you’d need it, with Tony,’ Charles said with a sly smile. ‘I rather think that-’

‘ _HELLO!_ ’ Both Steve and Charles jumped and turned to look in surprise at Victor von Doom, who was looking decidedly grumpy. ‘Can someone please pay _me_ a bit of attention now?’

‘Sorry,’ Charles and Steve muttered, managing to look contrite.

Dr. Doom studied them both for a moment before nodding. ‘So you should be,’ he said huffily, before straightening up. ‘Now then, my friends, where was I. Oh yes, I was telling you about my plans for the next Doomsday …’

Charles and Steve sighed and, meeting each others’ eyes, resigned themselves to an evening of being educated on just how totally and completely wise and stupendous His Amazing Doomliness (‘Victor, call me Victor!’) was and the long, never-ending list of reasons for why this was (there was going to be a test at the end, and everything).

It was, without a doubt, complete and utter _torture_.


	5. Chapter 5

‘So,’ Tony asked carefully a few hours later when they were aboard the fastest jet that he could get his hands on and hurtling towards a no doubt soon-to-be-doomed Latveria, ‘What’s our plan?’

Erik didn’t even glance up from where his eyes were burning a hole through the aeroplane window. ‘We get in, find Charles and Steve, kill Doom and then burn the place down to the ground,’ he said in a level monotone, blinking calmly. ‘That’s our plan.’

Tony paused and then his eyebrows pulled together and he wrinkled his nose. ‘… Yeah, no, that’s _not_ a plan. That’s basically just a statement of intent.’ He ran a strained hand through his hair, trying not to look troubled by this. ‘I mean hey, sure, I am totally on board with the whole killing and burning and Viking-style pillaging thing, absolutely, sounds like fun – but that is really, _really_ not a plan. And, seriously, the fact that _I’m_ the one that’s saying that it’s not a plan? That’s a pretty good indicator that it’s _really not a fucking plan_.’

That finally seemed to pull Erik away from his window-gazing. He turned to Tony and looked at him with a frown. ‘Are you _frightened_?’ he demanded, looking slightly incredulous. ‘Are you _scared_ of Victor von Doom and his puny little country of fanatics?’

Tony gaped at him. ‘ _Me?_ ’ he sputtered, going slightly red. ‘ _Frightened?_ Are you – you must be – well, I-’ He suddenly paused and shook his head, his eyes widening. ‘Christ’s sakes, Lehnsherr – a whole freaking country! Let me just repeat that in case you missed it the first time around – _a whole freaking country_! I don’t know how many dictatorships you’ve brought down in your time, pal, but I’m betting that you’ve never faced a _whole damn country_ where the _whole damn population_ was head-over-fucking-heels for their mentally-unstable lord and master!’

Erik glanced at him coldly. ‘I have toppled nations,’ he intoned. ‘I have brought governments down to their knees. One little country full of sycophantic morons is nothing.’

‘Oh really?’ Tony folded his arms over his chest. ‘Then tell me,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘What exactly do you _know_ about Latveria? Because, seriously – I’m _really_ curious to know.’

Erik shrugged, uninterested. ‘It is a land populated by mentally-compromised humans and led by a madman,’ he said carelessly. ‘Quite frankly I don’t need to know anything more than that.’

‘Right,’ Tony sneered. ‘Because the population numbers and military tactics of the country we’re about to invade all by ourselves are _so_ unimportant.’ 

Erik shrugged again. ‘They are irrelevant,’ he said blandly. ‘You seem to forget, Stark, that I control all metal. Therefore, by extension, I also control all their weapons.’

‘You’re assuming that all their weapons will be made out of metal,’ Tony said dryly.

Erik frowned. ‘Well what else would they be made out of?’ he demanded irritably. ‘I know that these people are heathens but that doesn’t mean that they’ll be using wooden catapults to fight us off.’ He cast Tony a disdainful look. ‘Stop being a coward and man up a little, Stark. Unless you’re fine with the idea of your boyfriend spending more time than necessary with that madman Doom.’

‘You know things are more than a little screwed up when _I’m_ the sensible one around here,’ Tony muttered, looking rather sulky. He glared at Erik. ‘All I’m trying to do is come up with some sort of strategy to get us in and out without putting our boys’ lives in danger. I mean Jesus, Lehnsherr, if I wanted the brute-force strategy then I’d have just got Banner on the phone and got _him_ to Hulk-smash his way into Doom’s lair.’

Erik blinked. ‘Why _didn’t_ you get Banner on the phone and get him to Hulk-smash his way into Doom’s lair?’ he asked, frowning slightly.

Tony opened his mouth and then paused, a rather constipated look crossing his face.

‘Damn it, Tony!’ Erik growled, glaring at Stark with a measure of disbelief. ‘What’s the point in having these people for friends if the only time you feel like calling on them is when you feel like getting _drunk_?’

‘Hey, _you_ didn’t think of them either!’ Tony protested, feeling embarrassed almost in spite of himself. ‘Besides,’ he added hurriedly, keen to smooth things over, ‘It’s better this way.’ At Erik’s raised eyebrow he continued. ‘Think of all the amazing sex we’ll get when we rescue our boys single-handed!’

Erik paused in the middle of rolling his eyes, looking thoughtful. ‘I suppose they _would_ be grateful …’ he muttered reluctantly.

‘ _Sure_ they will!’ Tony said brightly, relieved that Erik was coming around to his way of thinking. ‘I mean, they’re the kind of guys who love the idea of a white knight coming to their rescue right?’

Erik snorted. ‘They usually _are_ the white knights,’ he grumbled, strangely looking a little disheartened by the thought. ‘I hardly think that people think of _us_ when they want to be rescued.’

‘Speak for yourself, buddy,’ Tony puffed out his chest proudly. ‘ _Everyone_ wants to be rescued by Iron Man.’

Erik scoffed. ‘Little boys want to be rescued by Iron Man,’ he said dismissively. ‘Everyone else wants Rogers.’ He paused. ‘Or Thor. And I think that Banner is quite popular as well …’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Tony grumbled, folding his arms and sounding disgruntled. ‘Let’s all go crazy for the huge green monster and the big blond God.’ He let out a loud sniff. ‘Some people just have _no_ taste.’

Erik shrugged. ‘They’re not wrong though. Personally speaking, I would much rather have any one of _them_ on board this plane with me instead of _you_.’

Tony’s eyes narrowed. ‘Gee,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Thanks for the honesty.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Erik’s tone was placid.

Tony glared at him. ‘Actually, you know what? I bet you’d be real pleased if they _were_ here,’ he said vindictively, his pride obviously having been pricked. ‘I bet you’d be pleased right until the point where Thor gets there first and gets to have Norse-god-white-knight victory sex with Charles on the seat of Doom’s throne while you watch and mope in the shadows and wish to all hell that you had _me_ there beside you instead of Mr. All Muscles and No Brain.’

Erik’s spine immediately stiffened and he turned to Tony with a hiss. ‘Don’t even joke about that!’ he snarled. ‘Charles would _never_ do such a thing!’

Tony raised an eyebrow. ‘You sure about that, pal?’ he asked, folding his arms. ‘Because I _know_ you’ve seen the way that Charles looks at the big guy when he’s around, and let me tell you – that close inspection he does of Thor’s arms? That’s so _not_ done out of scientific curiosity.’

Erik’s chest was heaving in short, rapid breaths and he looked incensed. Tony watched on, intrigued.

‘I’d avoid Banner too, if I were you,’ he added, deciding to stoke the fire a little further. ‘I mean, what’s up with all those cosy chats that he and Charles get up to anyway? Those look _way_ too cosy for it to just be science-related.’

‘They’re _scientists_!’ Erik snapped, although there was a slightly wary look in his eyes. ‘Of course they’re interested in what the other has to say.’ He paused. ‘And Charles _always_ looks like that when he’s talking about science.’ He turned and glared suspiciously at Tony. ‘He gets that way when he’s talking about things with _you_ , too.’

‘Ha,’ Tony ran his hand through his hair and hurriedly interceded. ‘Yeah, well – maybe not Bruce then. But Thor – I’d definitely watch out for him. What with the … arms and then whole … beady eye sort of situation.’

Erik stared at Tony for a moment, his eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head. ‘You’re an idiot,’ he said flatly, before turning once again to look out the window.

‘I’m an idiot who’s helping you to take on a whole damn country single-handedly,’ Tony corrected lightly. 

Erik paused and then turned back to face him. ‘True,’ he said in a more even, level tone, meeting Tony’s eyes for a moment and dipping his head in an almost unnoticeable nod. ‘You are, at that.’

Tony felt a small smile pull his mouth upwards.

‘Awesome,’ he said, before turning and throwing himself down into the seat opposite Erik’s. ‘We’re BFFs all over again.’ He stretched out his legs and closed his eyes. ‘Wake me up when we get to Latveria, okay? All this male bonding has put me in the mood for a siesta.’

‘You had one less than an hour ago,’ Erik said flatly.

Tony shrugged one lethargic shoulder, his eyes still closed. ‘What can I say? Some of us need our beauty sleep.’ He opened one eye and peered at Lehnsherr. ‘Not _you_ , obviously.’

Erik ignored the feeble dig. ‘What happened to coming up with a plan?’ he asked instead, only slightly curious.

‘Plan?’ Tony opened the other eye. ‘Who needs plans? From here on out, I’m subscribing to the Erik Lehnsherr manual of how to live your life. Apparently that means no plans.’ He shrugged and let out a huge yawn. ‘Who am I to argue?’

Erik rolled his eyes. ‘Go to sleep, Stark,’ he muttered, trying to ignore the softening of his voice. ‘We’ll be in Latveria soon enough.’

Tony shuffled down in his seat and let out a comfortable sigh. ‘Will do,’ he said, settling himself in. ‘And hey – maybe getting some beauty sleep will actually help.’ He smirked even as he closed his eyes. ‘Maybe all of Latveria will fall in love with my face and start worshipping _me_.’ He smacked his lips and murmured drowsily. ‘I always did think that “King Tony” had a bit of a ring to it …’

*****

‘No, no, no,’ Dr. Doom shook his head, looking ever so slightly irritated. ‘How many times must I say it? Latveria is not a dictatorship.’ He paused dramatically. ‘It is an _enforced monarchy_.’

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to make things any clearer.

‘And that’s different how exactly?’ Charles asked, raising one eyebrow and looking terribly unimpressed with the entire situation.

Doom looked at him in surprise, as if he was genuinely unable to believe that a man of such great intelligence could not distinguish the difference between the two forms of government. Then he let out a sigh, as if resigned to the need to educate the two newest members of the Victor von Doom Fan Club.

‘The people _love_ me,’ he explained patiently, turning to Charles and Steve with an earnest expression. ‘I do not force myself upon them as a ruler – they _want_ me to rule them. They _beg_ me to rule them. Who am I to refuse such a thing?’

Steve’s forehead puckered and he tilted his head. ‘They _want_ you to rule them?’ he repeated doubtfully.

‘They do,’ Doom gave him a grave nod.

Charles frowned. ‘So … you’re saying that you’re only ruler of Latveria because your people love you so much?’ he asked, sounding incredibly sceptical.

Doom beamed. ‘Yes!’ he said, sounding pleased that Charles finally seemed to have understood.

But Charles wasn’t finished. ‘So by that definition …’ he cocked his head thoughtfully. ‘ _I_ could become ruler of Latveria if everyone really, really wanted it.’

Doom paused at that. ‘Well … no,’ he said, frowning.

Charles and Steve shared a look.

‘No?’ Charles asked curiously.

‘No,’ Doom agreed, shaking his head. ‘You wouldn’t. That would be nonsensical. You would never be able to rule Latveria. Not in a million years. Well – not unless I took you for my royal consort, of course.’ He paused then, suddenly looking speculative, before turning to Charles. ‘ _Do_ you want to be my royal consort?’

Charles’s eyes widened and he stared at Doom for a moment before vehemently shaking his head. ‘Oh no – _no_. Thank you. That’s – no. I – have someone already.’

Doom actually looked rather disappointed at that but he nodded graciously and then turned to Steve. ‘And you?’ he asked, leaning forward interestedly.

‘Oh,’ Steve looked slightly bewildered at this turn of events. ‘No, thank you … I’m taken.’

‘Repeatedly,’ Charles added, nodding.

There was an awkward pause.

‘Right,’ Charles muttered, shuffling in his seat. ‘Wrong audience. Never mind.’

‘In any case,’ Doom spoke loudly, deciding that it was his prerogative as Supreme Ruler of Everything to be able to ignore whatever he felt like, ‘The reason I interrupted your personal guided tour of our magnificent capital-’

_That’s what that was?_ Steve glanced at Charles, sounding surprised. _We were sight-seeing?_

Charles shrugged. _I don’t know_ , he answered. _It’s rather difficult to tell when you’re being shepherded around by almost half the soldiers in Latveria’s army._

‘- which I hope you enjoyed as thoroughly as I would wish,’ Doom was continuing, ‘Is that I wanted to prepare you for tomorrow’s Doom’s Day celebrations.’

Charles and Steve shared an alarmed glance. They had already sat through several hours of Doom’s monologuing on the previous day. They had no intention of being subjected to another round of it if they could help it.

Luckily, Doom seemed to have something more practical in mind. ‘It occurs to me,’ he said, striding up and down in the space in front of them, ‘That you are poorly equipped for your stay in Latveria.’ He turned to look at them almost reproachfully.

Steve and Charles stared at him.

‘Well, our trip _was_ kinda unexpected,’ Steve said, looking uncertain.

‘I would even go so far as to say that we had no intention of coming here at _all_ ,’ Charles added dryly, raising an eyebrow at Doom.

Doom, astoundingly, did not seem to be at all surprised by this. ‘I understand,’ he said graciously, nodding at them with a benevolent sort of grace. ‘Latveria’s charms are often overpowering. You are not the first, my friends, to find themselves in my country without any prior design to visit.’

‘Oh, I bet,’ Charles muttered, casting a gloomy look at Doom.

‘But never fear!’ Doom suddenly straightened up, ‘For I am a benevolent friend and master, and it would pain me greatly to see you dressed poorly for so great an occasion as Doom’s Day. I have therefore summoned my own personal tailor to attend to your needs, to see to it that you are properly dressed in time for tomorrow’s celebrations!’

Charles and Steve exchanged a dubious look, a little doubtful but nevertheless rather relieved that they would not have to suffer through another few hours of one of Doom’s monologues.

Steve took a deep breath. ‘Thanks, I guess,’ he said, turning back to a waiting Dr. Doom and giving him a weak smile. ‘That’s really very generous of you, Dr – I mean, Victor. We appreciate it.’

‘It was extremely thoughtful of you,’ Charles agreed, also pasting a pleasant smile on his face. ‘Believe me when I say that Steve and I hadn’t even considered the matter. At all.’

Doom puffed out his chest. ‘It is the duty of rulers such as I to look after the needs of my people, even when they are too weak and short-sighted to recognise their needs themselves,’ he said magnanimously.

There was a pause.

‘So … should we go find the tailor?’ Steve asked, keen to be excused from Doom’s presence before he decided to start talking again.

But Doom shook his head. ‘I am greatly pleased by your eagerness, Mr. Rogers, but you mustn’t worry about it. I have arranged for you to be attended to in the evening.’

Steve’s brow furrowed. ‘But then,’ he began, frowning. ‘Why did you call us back now if we’re only needed in the evening?’

Doom straightened up at that and he beamed at the both of them, raising his hands. ‘I am very glad you asked,’ he declared, sounding immensely pleased. ‘For, you see, it occurred to me that I did not get around to telling you about the origins of the very first Doom’s Day, and of the celebrations held in my honour to allow the people of my country to prove their complete and utter devotion to me. Ah, my friends, it feels like it was just yesterday, although it was very many years ago, and I remember each and every detail with remarkable accuracy, which I shall now use to paint you the most extraordinary portrait of how things were back then. You see, I had only just stepped into the role of beloved ruler of the magnificent country of Latveria at the behest of my people, and I very much wanted to reward them for their show of loyalty and support, so I thought what better way to reward them than to allow them to display their devotion to me in a way that everyone would be able to see and hear and enjoy …’

Charles and Steve both turned to look at each other, their faces pale and their eyes filled with despair. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for a moment.

And then, finally, Steve snapped.

_Right_ , he said, his mental voice firm and full of determination. _Please pardon my language here, Charles – I would really rather avoid it but I find that sometimes some things just need to be said._ He paused, his eyes boring grimly into Charles’s, before his jaw tightened. _We need to get the **fuck** out of here._

There was a brief, stunned pause and then a slow, dangerous smile spread across Charles’s face. _Darling_ , he murmured, his eyes sparkling even as Doom launched into a description of the parade-master’s custom-made Doom’s Day jacket that he intended to have handed down from generation to generation, _I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I have never been more attracted to you than I am right now._

Steve blinked and then allowed a small smile to show on his own face. _Now, now, dear,_ he murmured, eyes twinkling in amusement. _Save it for the honeymoon. We’ve got plans to make._

Charles glanced up at Doom, who was still rhapsodising over the parade-master’s jacket with almost disturbing enthusiasm. _Oh don’t worry_ , he said dryly, turning back to Steve. _Something tells me we have all the time in the world._


	6. Chapter 6

‘So,’ Steve said later on that night, after they had both finished being pawed at by the over-enthusiastic and quite possibly amorous personal tailor of Victor von Doom. ‘I was thinking about our options while we were being …’ he paused, trying to find a suitable word, ‘ _fitted_ for our clothes this evening …’

Charles let out a snort. ‘I rather think that _groped_ would be the more appropriate word, in this context,’ he muttered, grimacing at the memory of unfamiliar hands going places that they most certainly should _not_ be going. 

Steve’s discomfited expression mirrored Charles’s but he nevertheless bravely forged on. ‘What I meant to say,’ he said determinedly, ‘is that we don’t have much time. I think that if we are going to escape then we need do it fast.’ He met Charles’s eyes. ‘I think we should do it tomorrow.’

Charles eyed him carefully. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said slowly. ‘Doom’s Day.’ He gave Steve a wry smile. ‘How … appropriate.’

‘It’s our best chance,’ Steve said earnestly. ‘Everyone will be distracted and their attention will be focused on the celebrations. That will be the perfect time to slip out, while no one’s looking.’

‘It’s a good idea,’ Charles admitted, looking thoughtful. ‘Really, it is.’ His mouth then twisted downwards in a grimace. ‘And I would completely agree with you that it would be the perfect time to escape – if it weren’t for the miniscule and completely incidental fact that the two of us are Doom’s extra special guests of honour and will be stuck front and centre with him for the whole ridiculous charade.’ He shook his head and gave a helpless shrug. ‘I rather think that gets us a bit more attention than we’ll be able to cope with, unfortunately.’

Steve smiled grimly. ‘You’re right,’ he said, nodding. ‘But I still think that it’s the best time to get out of here. All we need to do is separate ourselves from Doom without arousing his suspicions, and then get out of there before anyone realises that we’re gone.’

‘Because that sounds so easy,’ Charles muttered. ‘Ditching Doom – which will be an ordeal in itself, as I’m sure you know – _and_ getting out of here unnoticed.’

‘Well,’ Steve said mildly. ‘We do have a secret weapon of sorts …’

Charles frowned at that and cocked his head enquiringly. ‘We do?’ he asked blankly.

Steve’s eyebrow rose. ‘You _are_ a telepath,’ he reminded him, giving Charles a pointed look, which, if going by Steve’s standards, was the normal-person’s equivalent of an eye-roll.

Charles blinked. ‘Oh,’ he said sheepishly. ‘Right. That.’ He then shook his head. ‘Don’t forget yourself though, Steve. Maybe you don’t realise it, but as far as I’m concerned it’s pretty handy to have a super-soldier around at times like this.’

‘Like when you’re kidnapped by psychotic megalomaniacal super-villains, you mean?’ Steve asked with a touch of humour. Then he shook his head. ‘But no – I don’t know how much use I’m going to be with this. It calls for more finesse than brute strength, and slamming people into walls may be effective but it sure as hell isn’t subtle. No,’ he said, turning to Charles. ‘You’ll have to do the heavy lifting on this one, I’m afraid.’ He gave Charles a rueful smile. ‘My strength isn’t going to be all that useful in this kind of situation.’

‘That doesn’t mean that I’m not glad to have you in our corner,’ Charles said loyally, giving Steve a small smile. ‘In fact, I think that I can definitely state that there is almost no one else in the world who I would rather be in this situation with.’

‘Except maybe for a certain mutant master of magnetism?’ Steve murmured, looking at Charles knowingly.

Charles’s mouth curved upwards. ‘Perhaps,’ he admitted. ‘And I’m sure that _you_ would much rather have Iron Man in your corner than me …’

They both paused and took a long moment to imagine being there with their respective other halves instead of each other. 

‘… On second thoughts,’ Charles said hurriedly. ‘Maybe it’s best that it’s just the two of us right now.’

‘I agree,’ Steve nodded fervently. ‘This is a time for stealth and subtlety, not explosions and … well. _You_ know. Erik and Tony.’

‘Erik and Tony,’ Charles agreed, sighing. ‘Perhaps it’s a good thing that they aren’t here right now …’

*****

‘Damn it, Stark, we are _not_ going to blow up Doom’s ridiculous-looking castle! What if Charles and Steve are in there?’

‘I wasn’t suggesting blowing up _all_ of the castle, asshole,’ Tony snapped, glaring at Erik and putting his hands on his hips. ‘Just _part_ of it.’

Erik did not look appeased. ‘So – what,’ he said sarcastically. ‘We blow up _part_ of the castle and just hope that we didn’t manage to drop a bomb right on top Charles and Steve’s bedroom?’

Tony’s eyebrow shot up. ‘Bed _room_? As in _singular_? What – you think they’re sharing a bed in there?’ he demanded, sounding a lot more intrigued by the idea than Erik liked.

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘What I _think_ ,’ he said coldly, ‘Is that you had better get your mind out of the gutter and focus on the goddamn job at hand. Or are you more concerned about Charles and Steve’s sleeping arrangements than the fact that they might be getting tortured and interrogated right at this very instant?’

Tony cocked his head thoughtfully. ‘Well,’ he said slowly, ‘If I’m honest, I would much rather focus on the first situation than the second …’ He shrugged the glare Erik shot him. ‘Just saying.’

‘And that,’ Erik snapped, his mouth curling into a sneer as he folded his arms across his chest, ‘Is why the two of us will never get on with each other. You would much rather focus on silly, inconsequential foolishness than on the things that really matter.’ His lip curled. ‘It’s no wonder that Fury asked for Steve instead of you – you’re nothing but an encumbrance to the rest of us!’

Tony jerked back, stung. ‘Yeah, well, there’s no prizes for guessing why he chose Charles instead of _you_ ,’ he retorted. ‘In fact, _everyone_ chooses Charles over you. Do you ever stop to wonder why that is?’

Erik blinked at that and frowned. ‘Of course everyone prefers Charles,’ he said, nonplussed, as if he was trying to figure out what about Tony’s words had actually been intended as an insult. ‘Charles is wonderful. Why wouldn’t they choose him over me?’

Tony opened his mouth to sneer at that but then he paused and closed his mouth again. With a shake of the head, he sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘Jesus, you can’t even take an insult properly,’ he muttered sourly. His mouth twisted. ‘And okay, so that’s actually kind of … sweet.’

Erik’s eyes snapped up. ‘What?’ he said flatly.

‘Oh, so you’re fine with me calling you a dick, but “sweet” is out of the question?’ Tony gave him a look. ‘Erik – buddy, you’ve got issues.’

‘Yes, well,’ Erik’s jaw tightened. ‘The only issue I am concerned about right now is how to get Charles out of that damned castle as soon as possible.’

‘Well then you’ve clearly not been listening to me,’ Tony said, exasperated. ‘My plan is a work of genius. _I_ am a genius. All you have to do is _listen_. It’s literally that simple. You should really show me a little more respect in these things, you know.’

‘I’ll show you respect when you’ve earned it,’ Erik said gruffly. He scowled down at the ground for a moment before he then shook his head and pinched his nose. ‘Fine,’ he said shortly, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Tony. ‘Let me hear it again. In _detail_ , this time.’

Tony’s mouth stretched out in a triumphant grin. ‘Awesome,’ he said, clapping his hands together in enthusiasm. His eyes met Erik’s and his smile turned sharp. ‘It goes a little something like this …’

*****

‘Are you not entertained, my friends?’ Doom asked for what had to be the tenth time in as many minutes.

Charles and Steve exchanged a weary look.

‘Uh … sure,’ Steve said cautiously, not knowing what else to say.

‘Oh, absolutely,’ Charles agreed blandly, his voice dry. ‘Because listening to the Chief Minister’s forty-minute long rhapsody on your long list virtues was precisely what I was most looking forward on today’s itinerary, Doctor.’

Steve gave Charles a reproachful look but it was only half-hearted. Sarcasm, as they both knew full well, was not a word that would be found in the Latverian dictionary. Charles had actually checked. 

‘I am most gratified to hear it,’ Doom said proudly, gracing Charles with a benevolent look. ‘Indeed, it fills my heart with the utmost pleasure to see just how well you, my two beloved guests, are settling into life in Latveria. I cannot tell you how many times I have congratulated myself on my wisdom in issuing you both invitations to join us here.’

‘Oh, you _have_ told us about it,’ Charles said with a bland, charming smile. ‘Quite often, actually.’

_Careful Charles_ , Steve’s mental voice was soothing but nevertheless contained a grain of warning. _I get how you’re feeling but you don’t want to underestimate him. Just hang on for the next hour or so and then we’ll be out of here, okay?_

Charles let out a sigh. _Yes, you’re right,_ he said grumpily. _I’m sorry. I’ll behave from now on, I promise._

_It’s okay,_ Charles could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. _All I need to do is imagine how Erik and Tony would be faring in our place right now and then anything we say or do looks like the height of good manners in comparison._

Charles huffed out a laugh. _You have a point_ , he said dryly. Then he sobered and took a deep breath. _Okay_ , he said, straightening up determinedly in his seat. _One hour. I can do that._

**…**

Charles couldn’t do it.

He was bored. He was just really, really bored. And, judging by the glazed-over expression on Steve’s face, he wasn’t faring much better.

_Steve?_ He asked tentatively, poking around the edges of Steve’s head and causing him to startle. _Is it time yet?_

It was actually way _past_ time, but they hadn’t been able to do anything about it. They had waited patiently for an hour to elapse and after that they had tried making subtle excuses to leave. Then they had tried making _un_ subtle excuses to leave. Doom, however, hadn’t seemed to understand either.

_Just a few more minutes, Charles_ , came the steady, patient reply. Charles, however, was a telepath, so he could see quite clearly that the steadiness and the patience was all a front: in truth, Steve was almost _crying_ with frustration. 

Okay – so not _actually_ crying. But he was as near to it as someone like him could get. Which said a lot.

In the end, it was another hour or so before they were able to get away – and that was only due to Doom’s somewhat unexpected passion for the Latverian National Ballet, who were putting on a performance for His Doomliness in honour of Doom’s Day. Although, Charles considered, perhaps Doom’s passion for it was not altogether that surprising when considering that the performance that the LNB were putting on was apparently Latveria’s most popular and widely-performed theatrical production, _Doom’s Crown_ , which followed the powerful and moving story of a young Victor von Doom’s rise to power in his beloved motherland. Doom himself was frequently moved to tears by the performance and it was during one of these many bouts of weeping that Steve and Charles finally managed to sneak off, murmuring excuses and slipping out of the way while the audience members dabbed at their eyes with their neatly-folded pocket handkerchiefs.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ Charles muttered as they casually sidled into the adjoining corridor, their shoulders instantly relaxing as they turned the corner. ‘I thought that we’d never get out of there.’

‘Patience is a soldier’s greatest asset,’ Steve said wisely, gently nudging Charles’s arm. ‘Although, granted, I don’t think that any soldier’s actually been unlucky enough to be saddled with any of _that_ before.’

‘Lucky them,’ Charles said fervently. He straightened his shoulders. ‘Right then,’ he said, once more alert. ‘What now?’

‘Now we get out of here,’ Steve said firmly. They turned into another corridor and he relaxed minutely as he saw a familiar looking picture on the wall. ‘It’s a good thing we mapped out the route yesterday … although,’ he added, ‘I suppose we could have always used your telepathy to get us out.’ 

‘Hmm,’ Charles nodded absently but when Steve turned to look at him he was frowning. 

‘What is it?’ Steve asked, his muscles immediately tensing.

‘It’s nothing …’ Charles said hesitantly, his brow still furrowed. ‘It’s just … I can’t actually seem to _hear_ anything … anyone’s thoughts, I mean.’

Steve frowned. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, turning to look at Charles. 

Charles nodded. ‘Positive,’ he said, sounding troubled. ‘I can’t hear anyone about right now, but yesterday this place was positively teeming with guards and I could hear them perfectly well then.’

‘Maybe they’re all watching the performance,’ Steve suggested. ‘Maybe the reason why you can’t hear them is because there’s no one actually here.’

‘Hmm,’ Charles nodded, although he sounded a little doubtful. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

‘I’m sure I am,’ Steve said reassuringly.

And then they turned a corner and walked straight into the broad, muscled arms of two of Doom’s guards.


	7. Chapter 7

Two hours later, Tony and Erik’s plan was (mostly) all ironed out and Operation White Knight was a go (Erik had wanted to call it Operation Death to Doom, but Tony had felt that it was a bit _too_ on the nose, and they had both vetoed Operation Save Our Boyfriends From the Evil Dictator and Then Get The Heck Out Of Dodge So We Can Go Home And Have Reunion Sex on the grounds that it didn’t really roll off the tongue). Tony had set his jet down on the edge of a convenient forest that bordered the city of Doomstadt, and they were both suited and booted and raring to go. 

They stood now at the edge of the jet’s doorway, looking out into the lush greenery of Doomwood Forest with solemn expressions on their faces. Somewhere out there Steve and Charles were being held prisoner, probably suffering indescribable torments, and no doubt eagerly awaiting the arrival of their devoted boyfriends to save them from the hands of the madman Doom. 

The stakes had never been higher. Not even when Tony had nearly gambled away Nick Fury’s eye-patch without telling him in a game of poker. 

A lone bird chirruped from somewhere deep inside the forest, inviting them in.

Tony took a deep breath and glanced over at Erik, his Iron Man faceplate open. ‘So …’ he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. ‘You ready for this?’ he asked winningly.

Erik turned a deeply unimpressed look on him and scowled. ‘Just shut up and get the fuck on with it,’ he growled moodily, before stalking off into the undergrowth.

Tony pouted. ‘Bet you wouldn’t have said that if _Charles_ had asked you,’ he muttered sulkily, before leaping off the plane and hurrying after Erik, following him into the gloomy depths of Doomwood Forest.

*****

‘Right,’ Charles said, taking a quick step backwards, his eyes wide and round as he took in the sight of the broad-chested guards standing in front of them. ‘Any ideas?’

 _You’re a **telepath**_ , Steve said quickly, his muscles tensing as he sized up the guards. _Get them away from here!_

_I can’t!_ Charles sent back, trying not to panic. _Don’t you see what they’re wearing?_

It wasn’t exactly hard to miss. The whole castle seemed to have entered into the spirit of Doom’s Day, and the guards were no exception. While most of Castle Doom’s inhabitants were wearing the official colours of Latveria in celebration, the guards had all been decked out in the garb of Dr. Doom himself, and this uniform came complete with …

_Masks_ , Steve realised with a sinking feeling. _They’re wearing replicas of Doom’s mask._

_Doom’s **telepathy-resistant** mask, yes,_ Charles replied sourly, his displeasure making itself known very clearly inside Steve’s head. _The bastard had his guards outfitted in the very same masks, made with the very same alloy. I can’t get through to them._

Steve felt his heart sink. He was about to respond but that was when the guards decided that it would be a good time to start interrogating them.

‘What are you doing here?’ the taller, broader of the two asked. Strangely enough, the question sounded less interrogatory and more curious. 

This was confirmed a moment later by the question of the second guard. ‘Aren’t you afraid that you will miss the rest of the Doom’s Day celebrations?’ he asked, sounding genuinely anxious on their behalf.

Charles and Steve exchanged a look.

_We need to do something_ , Charles said quickly. _I am **not** going back there again. I absolutely refuse to._

Steve nodded. _We need to get rid of these two before they alert Doom to our disappearance_ , he said grimly. He casually shifted his stance, bending his knees and tensing his muscles, preparing himself to go on the offensive. _Perhaps there will be some use for a super-soldier here after all._

Charles, however, cocked his head and glanced at the two guards in front of them, who were still waiting very politely for their response. _Wait_ , he said, biting his lip thoughtfully. _Let me try something_. He took a deep breath, lifted his chin and turned to the nearest masked guard before straightening up and smiling his widest, most innocent smile at him. 

‘Hi,’ he said, cocking his head to the side and licking his lips in a way that he knew made people (okay, Erik, he was basing this whole thing entirely on Erik) feel slightly weak at the knees. ‘Would you mind taking your mask off for a moment?’ He gave the guard an angelic look and even batted his eyelashes for good measure; Erik had always been highly complimentary about his eyelashes.

The guard just stood there, blinking dumbly at him, and for a moment Charles was convinced that the whole thing was a completely humiliating and idiotic idea and that he had just made a massive fool of himself. Then the guard suddenly seemed to perk up, a red tinge touching his cheeks, as if he was both surprised and incredibly flattered by the attention.

‘Oh, yeah,’ he said, sounding genuinely touched by the request. ‘Yeah, that would – yeah, I can do that, sure. Whatever you need.’ He reached up to take the mask off.

‘What about me?’ the other guard abruptly piped up before the mask could come off, sounding almost petulant at the apparent snub. ‘Don’t you want me to take my mask off too?’ He gazed at Charles almost accusingly, his tone reproachful.

Charles blinked, feeling slightly wrong-footed. ‘Um. Yeah … actually, that would be great,’ he said, quickly recovering and then turning to smile broadly at the second guard. ‘Would you mind?’

The second guard beamed, looking slightly smug at having weaselled his way into participating, as he, like his comrade, reached up to pull off his mask.

Charles shot Steve a look that, although not telepathic, nevertheless clearly conveyed the thought _Oh my god I honestly can’t believe that this shit actually worked!!!_ Then he turned back to the guards and, still wearing an impossibly charming smile on his face, slowly brought his fingers up to his forehead.

‘Thank you, boys,’ he said, smiling at them. ‘Now, how about you both toddle off and look busy somewhere else, hmm?’

The guards blinked dazedly, before then swiftly turning on their heels and marching out of the room, their memories of meeting Charles and Steve in the corridor completely wiped from their minds. 

‘They’ll keep their masks off,’ Charles told Steve in a low tone. ‘Just so I’ll be able to tell what’s going on and see whether anyone else is heading our way.’ He then casually glanced over and saw that Steve was looking at him strangely. ‘What?’ he asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. ‘What is it?’

Steve shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said. At Charles’s doubtful expression he let out a huff and gave Charles a wry smile. ‘Just thinking that that smile of yours ought to be registered as a deadly weapon, that’s all.’ And although his tone was humorous, there was also a note of awe in his voice.

Charles’s mouth curled up at that and he scratched the back of his neck almost shyly. ‘What can I say,’ he said, smiling crookedly. ‘I get a lot of practice with Erik around.’

Steve let out another huff of laughter. ‘I think I’m beginning to understand a bit of why Erik is the way he is,’ he said in a dry tone.

Charles’s eyes glinted and his mouth twitched mischievously. ‘Darling, you haven’t seen anything yet.’ His smile receded then and he sobered a little. ‘Come on,’ he said, jerking his head towards the now-empty corridor. ‘We better get moving.’

Steve gave him a tight nod and then they were off again, tripping down the corridor as quietly as they could manage, Steve leading the way as Charles scanned the area around him, his fingers at his temples and a look of deep concentration on his face.

It took them a while to find their way around the winding maze of corridors inside the building. The castle’s interior was a veritable labyrinth and they both shared frequent sighs of relief whenever they came across a familiar placement or marker that indicated that they were heading the right way.

At long last, they arrived at the immense hall where they had decided to make their escape from. It had the benefit of not only leading off into a thick and dense forest where they could take cover, but it was also on the other side of the castle, away from the gathering and the celebrations. All in all, it held the best chance of escape for the two of them.

That wasn’t to say that it would be easy. Although there was no permanent guard detail on duty due to the Doom’s Day celebrations which were taking up everyone’s time and focus, there were nevertheless frequent patrols that crossed through the hall, as well as the odd person who passed through every now and then. Despite being in their special Doom’s Day costumes – or perhaps _because_ of them – Charles and Steve knew that they would both stick out like sore thumbs to anyone who passed by. The direct approach was definitely out; what was needed here was stealth.

‘We need to time this perfectly,’ Steve whispered, meeting Charles’s eyes seriously as they crouched behind a convenient pillar. ‘No one should see us leave and no red flags should be raised. It is imperative that no one suspects that anything is going on right until the very last minute. It shouldn’t be too difficult … everyone should be relaxed and focused on the display. But under no circumstances should anything draw their attention away from that, understand?’ 

Charles nodded. ‘Understood,’ he said crisply, his mouth tightening in determination.

Steve nodded and turned back to face the doors. ‘Good,’ he said quietly. Now, we need to move as quickly and silently as possible. And remember – not a _sound_.’

 

At that exact moment there was a loud _BOOM!_ from directly across the hall, causing all the passing guards to leap to attention, holding their weapons close, as chunks of rock and rubble came crashing down around a giant hole in the wall.

… The wall that contained the door through which they had been about to make their escape.

Shouts echoed down the hall and the sound of running feet echoed through the corridors as guards were sent to find out what had happened. Charles and Steve could only stare in disbelief, their mouths agape, as their plans crumbled down around them along with the wall. 

‘What on earth …?’ Steve whispered, looking stricken.

‘I don’t know,’ Charles said blankly, shaking his head and staring despairingly as a door opened and a hundred guards streamed across the hall towards them. ‘But I promise you that I am going to find whichever idiot is responsible for this and then I’m going to bloody well _castrate_ them.’

Just as Steve was nodding in silent agreement, there came a voice that carried through the hall, a voice that was loud and American and so, _so_ familiar.

‘Hi honey, I’m home!’ it called out cheerfully. ‘Anybody there?’

‘Charles!’ came another voice, sharper and more noticeably accented. ‘Charles, don’t be afraid – I am here to rescue you!’

Charles and Steve’s eyes met in disbelief.

‘… Shit,’ Charles said, his voice faint. ‘I’m going to have to castrate our boyfriends, aren’t I?’

‘Oh don’t worry,’ Steve said grimly as the dust settled around them, his expression dark. ‘I’ll _definitely_ be helping.’


	8. Chapter 8

Fifteen minutes later they were all standing in front of Dr. Doom himself, Charles and Steve standing haplessly to the side next to a sullen and handcuffed Erik and Tony, who were glaring belligerently at their captors.

Doom, who had arrived mere minutes before, walked up and down in front of them without saying a word. His expression was stony; far more so than Charles or Steve had ever seen from him since they had found themselves in Latveria. It was unsettling.

After a long moment of tense silence, Doom stopped and turned to survey the two newcomers coldly, his eyes narrowed. ‘What,’ he said icily, his voice carrying to the dozen guards around them as he glared at Tony and Erik, ‘Are these _people_ doing here?’

There was pin-drop silence. Nobody so much as twitched a lip. Charles and Steve glanced over at each other, sharing an anxious, stymied look.

Then Erik opened his mouth, his face set into the haughtiest and most scathing of expressions. ‘Is it not obvious, _Doom_?’ he sneered, looking at Victor with plain and unmistakeable dislike. ‘Do you not already know?’

Doom’s eyes immediately narrowed. He slowly turned to face Erik, his expression darkening ominously as he drew himself up to his full and not inconsiderable height, almost daring Erik to continue.

Charles, who could all but see the blaring alarm and the flashing red lights go off in his head, widened his eyes and, in a panic, promptly stepped forward, desperate to do anything other than allow Erik to speak again. ‘Yes, obvious!’ he agreed, smiling almost maniacally in an effort to take the attention away from Erik and his clear attempt to hang, draw and quarter Doom simply through the power of his glare. 

His expression quickly dimmed, however, when everyone – even Erik, who actually paused in the middle of his terrifying Death Glare – turned to him with highly dubious expressions, and he realised that he might actually have to qualify that statement with an explanation as to just what Tony and Erik were doing randomly popping up in Victor von Doom’s castle in Latveria dressed like they were going to the strangest (and most _colourful_ , Charles noted with a disapproving frown as he took in Erik’s magenta cape) costume party in the world.

There was a minute of long, tortuous silence. Then, thinking quickly, Charles turned to Doom and plastered on his most inviting, charming smile. ‘ _Obviously_ ,’ he began with a nervous laugh, ‘what happened here was that Eri – er, I mean these two _complete strangers_ that we have never met before – heard about Latveria’s famed Doom’s Day celebrations and couldn’t resist dropping in and … um … seeing it for themselves?’ He winced at the questioning tone that appeared at the end of his sentence, hoping that no one else had noticed it. He quickly tucked his hands behind his back and widened his eyes innocently, hoping that this form of super-subtle distraction would work as well on Doom as it did on Erik.

Doom eyed him narrowly, looking highly suspicious.

Charles widened his eyes further and smiled back winningly.

Doom finally let out a grunt and then spun around to face Tony and Erik. ‘Is this true?’ he demanded gruffly, arms folded across his impressive chest. ‘You are here because you could not bear to miss our majestic celebrations for Doom’s Day?’

There was a pause. Both Erik and Tony were wearing matching expressions, and those expressions clearly said _What the **fuck** is **Doom’s Day**?!_

Luckily, Steve was standing next to Tony and so was able to subtly (or not-so-subtly as the case may be, as nobody in the present company apart from Steve and Charles seemed to understand what the word “subtle” meant) slam his foot down over Tony’s and step in before Tony could open his big mouth and demand to know, in effect, what the fuck a Doom’s Day was.

‘Sure,’ Tony gritted out, swallowing and fighting to remove his foot out from underneath Steve’s. ‘Doomsday. Doomsday’s great. Love me some Doomsday. Sounds real … apocalyptic.’ 

Charles nudged Erik hopefully, eager for him to play along, but all Erik did was curl his lip and let out a growl, which was as good as a declaration of stubbornness as anything.

Doom, however, didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy beaming over Tony’s admission to pay attention to anything else.

‘Excellent!’ he boomed, smiling widely and moving his arms outwards in pleasure. ‘It is truly a joy to me to hear that our Doom’s Day evokes such love and fervour even in the hearts of foreign heathens. And look,’ he touched his hand to his chest as if genuinely moved, ‘You have even dressed up for the occasion!’

Erik opened his mouth to protest that his wonderful cape had absolutely _nothing_ to do with Doom, thank you very much, but Charles, taking a leaf out of Steve’s book, stamped his foot down hard over Erik’s in time to shut him up. Seeing as Erik’s foot was not encased in metal as Tony’s was, Charles’s move appeared to be a great deal more effective than Steve’s.

Luckily, Doom appeared not to notice the sudden hissing and muted swearing coming from Erik’s direction. ‘Come then, my friends,’ he was saying, raising his head proudly and allowing his voice to carry through the hall. ‘Your journey will not be for nothing! I shall grant you this most deep and secret wish of yours.’ He paused dramatically. All the guards nearby leaned forward eagerly. Charles and Steve glanced warily at each other and then braced themselves. ‘ … You shall accompany me as my personal guests to witness all the glories of Doom’s Day!’

Tony’s mouth fell open. ‘Oh, wow, now see-’

Doom held a hand up, cutting him off. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Do not thank me. It is the least I can do, seeing as your desire to celebrate with my subjects has carried you thus far. You can thank me _after_ the celebrations,’ he added, waving his arm magnanimously as if he was granting them a favour. ‘But please – not a moment before.’

‘I’ll try and keep that in mind,’ Tony said dryly. He leaned over to Steve. ‘Is this guy for real?’ he muttered, looking seriously doubtful.

Steve grimaced. ‘Unfortunately,’ he replied, sounding genuinely regretful.

Erik, meanwhile, was busy having a heated mental argument with Charles. 

_But Charles—_

_No._

_Doom **kidnapped** you—_

_No, Erik._

_He **deserves** to be—_

_I said **no**._

_Just **one** little kick to the—_

_What did I just say, Erik? No means **no**!_

Erik glowered at him. _Fine!_ he huffed resentfully, looking thoroughly put out. _Have it your way._

Charles allowed himself a tiny, smug smile. _I always do, darling._

Erik’s expression immediately softened at that, his irritation instantly melting away into adoration. _I’ve missed you,_ he said, and his tone, even in his head, was overwhelmingly heartfelt and genuine.

Charles’s eyes gentled. _I missed you too_ , he said, reaching forward and pressing his fingers lightly to Erik’s. He then frowned a little. _That’s not to say that I am not completely and utterly **furious** with you for ruining absolutely **everything** , and I still have every intention of fulfilling my promise to Steve to castrate both you and Tony after this is all over, but still – I **did** miss you, love._

Erik blinked slowly, looking somewhat bemused by Charles’s words. _**Ruined?**_ He repeated disbelievingly, his forehead creasing in concern. _Charles, I came to **rescue** y—_

‘To the hall!’ Doom bellowed abruptly, causing them all to jump apart almost guiltily. There was a spot of shuffling before they all slowly started to move down the hallway, making their way towards the centre of the celebrations.

Tony, thankfully, had the good sense to wait until Doom was a few steps ahead of them before speaking up. ‘Do we really have to do this?’ he muttered under his breath, looking slightly impatient. ‘I mean – do we really need to stick around for this?’

‘What he said,’ Erik grunted, nodding towards Tony, although he still kept his eyes on Charles. ‘Is this really necessary?’

‘I was just thinking that this would be more of a smash and grab sort of thing,’ Tony continued, gesturing widely with his hands. ‘Just a quick in and out. I didn’t realise that we’d be sticking around for cake and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey …’

‘How long does this thing go on for anyway?’ Erik agreed, folding his arms over his chest. ‘Because I don’t want to spend any more time in this accursed country than I have to …’

‘I mean, you know I’m _all_ for celebrating – _love_ me some celebrating – but here’s the thing: I had this idea while we were on our way over here and I _really_ want to get in the lab and start working on it—’

‘—And if I have to look at his face for an entire _hour_ then I will pull this whole castle down around us, Charles, I really will …’

‘… So, what do you say? This thing will be wrapped up in about an hour?’

Both Erik and Tony turned to look at the others expectantly.

Charles and Steve swallowed and met each other’s eyes.

‘… Yeah,’ Steve said ruefully after a long beat, his lips twisting into a pained grimace. ‘I wouldn’t put any money on that if I were you …’


	9. Chapter 9

‘Is it over yet?’ Tony whispered for what had to be the hundredth time in the last two hours. ‘Please, please, _please_ tell me that it’s over. It’s over, right?’

Charles roused himself from his stupor and let out a low groan in the back of his throat. ‘No, Tony,’ he gritted out, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. ‘It is not. It wasn’t over when you asked us that an hour ago and it still isn’t over now. In fact, it probably won’t be over an hour from now, either.’ He elbowed Steve in the side. ‘Tell him, Steve.’

Steve simply shook his head. ‘Me telling him hasn’t worked the last few dozen times,’ he said wearily. ‘Somehow I doubt that it’s going to work now.’

‘How about instead of your incessant _whining_ , Stark, you think about coming up with a plan to get us all _out_ of here,’ Erik growled through gritted teeth, even as he stared down stonily at the lines of angelic, pink-cheeked children singing Doom’s praises and gazing adoringly up at their beloved leader.

‘Hey!’ Tony reared up indignantly, only to be shushed angrily by a stern, formidable older lady who – rather disconcertingly – reminded Charles a bit too much of his mother.

_We should probably talk like this_ , he said, hurriedly reaching out to the other three. _We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, after all._

_Yeah, like anyone’s going to be paying attention to **us**_ , Tony remarked snidely. _When there are a bunch of cutesy singing brats taking up the limelight. I could do a naked jig right here and no one would notice._ Tony suddenly paused and blinked. _Hey_ , he said, turning to Steve and Charles. _That’s a thought. Why didn’t you guys try to escape while all this was going on? No one would have noticed you were gone till ages after._

Charles and Steve both turned to look at Tony, wearing matching expressions of incredulity.

_You’re kidding, right?_ Charles said flatly.

_Tony_ , Steve said slowly, and it was clear that even his formidable patience was almost at an end. _**Please** shut up._

_But I was only—_

_Because these folks might not be easily distracted from the show_ , Steve continued, deliberately raising his mental voice and talking over Tony. _But I very much doubt that they won’t notice it if I strangle you to death in front of all of them._

Tony’s mouth snapped shut.

Erik blinked. _How did you do that?_ he asked at once, eyeing Steve speculatively with a new appreciation in his eyes. _I threaten to strangle him all the time but he still **never** shuts up._

_It loses effect if you say it too many times, dear_ , Charles said kindly, patting Erik on the arm.

_You’ve got to **mean** it_ , Steve said earnestly, agreeing.

Erik’s frown deepened. _Oh, I mean it_ , he said darkly, glaring at Tony. _I definitely mean it. Each and every time._

_Looks like that’s not completely true_ , Tony said with a triumphant grin, turning to face Erik with glee. _Aww, Magsy baby, are we **friends** now? Are the death threats our “thing”? Because I can totally see how you think that that might be banter_. He paused. _Or foreplay_. He turned to Charles. _Hey Charles, does Mags use death threats as forepl-_

_Oh my god, shut up!_ Charles groaned, covering his face with his hands and automatically freezing Erik in place before he could let out a roar and wrap his hands around Tony’s neck. _This is **not** helping. Not even a little bit._

_What would you suggest?_ Erik gritted out, not removing his narrowed eyes from Tony’s face for even a second. 

_I **suggest**_ , Charles’s mental voice sounded as if it were coming from behind tightly-clenched teeth, _That you and Tony learn to stay bloody quiet and instead spend your energy on helping us think up a plan to get **out** of this madhouse instead of threatening to **kill** each other all the bloody time!_

_Hey!_ Tony protested, sounding defensive. _**He** was the one doing all the threatening! I was just sitting here!_

_Shut up Tony_ , came three simultaneous exasperated responses.

Tony let out a small noise of muted outrage at that and flopped back in his chair with a huff, folding his arms across his chest petulantly.

_Finally_ , Erik muttered.

_That’s enough out of you, as well_ , Charles said sharply, narrowing his eyes at Erik. _As far as I’m concerned, the two of you are both as bad as each other_.

Erik looked appalled at this and immediately opened his mouth to instinctively argue against this massive slur on his name, but one look at Charles’s narrowed eyes had him slumping back in his seat, muttering impotently under his breath.

Charles let out a sigh of relief. Then, taking a deep breath, he forced a smile and turned to Steve. _Now then_ , he said pleasantly. _What are we going to do about getting us out of here?_

*

Half an hour later, they had the skeleton of a plan laid out and Tony and Erik were reluctantly cooperating by keeping completely and utterly silent.

 _It’s not exactly the most sophisticated plan we’ve ever come up with_ , Charles admitted, biting his lower lip. _But it’s the best that we can come up with at such short notice_.

Steve nodded in agreement before then turning to the others. _So we are all agreed then?_ he asked, straightening up. _We wait till after Doom’s Day is over, when everyone is tired out and packing up and ready to go home, and then we leave in the crowd?_ He waited for a beat. _Guys?_ he asked, when neither Erik nor Tony responded.

Erik turned and glowered at him. _Are we allowed to speak now?_ he asked snidely. 

Tony opened his mouth to follow up with his own equally sarcastic remark.

Charles quickly cut him off. _No_ , he said. _Just – nod or something_.

Erik turned his glare on Charles for a moment, but it predictably faded the moment his eyes alighted on Charles’s face. Then both he and Tony reluctantly nodded to show that they had understood the plan.

_That’s plan A, at any rate_ , Steve said with a sigh. He ran a hand through his hair. _It’s plan B that is more troublesome_.

_Whoa there_ , Tony frowned, sitting up. _Plan B? I didn’t hear anything about any Plan B!_

Steve and Charles exchanged a glance. _That’s because we didn’t want you to_ , Charles said, glancing over at Tony and deliberately avoiding Erik’s gaze.

Erik’s eyes immediately narrowed. _Charles_ , he said suspiciously. _What exactly is Plan B?_

Charles and Steve once again glanced at each other. 

_Well_ , Steve said slowly when it was clear that Charles wasn’t about to answer. _You know how Doom expects us all to have dinner with him?_

_Yes_ , came the wary replies.

_And you know how Plan A is kind of risky and time-sensitive?_

_Yes,_ came the reply once more.

_Well, we have to be prepared for a delay to our plans. The way we see it, we only have a very small window during which we can escape. The first hour or so after the celebrations will be busy, but that won’t matter as we’ll be at dinner with Doom. After that, though, things will calm down and people will begin to leave and the crowds will all disperse. Now, if we are all able to leave in this time, when there are lots of people heading out and everyone is all tired and distracted, then everything is fine. If, however, dinner doesn’t end on time and Doom tries to keep us with him all night …_

_Then we’re screwed_ , Tony finished with dawning horror. _We’ll miss our window and won’t be able to escape with the crowd and we’ll be stuck listening to that asshole tell us about how awesome he is instead._

_Exactly,_ Steve’s voice was grim.

_But then – what do we do?_

Steve and Charles glanced at each other. _If that happens_ , Steve said slowly. _Then we will need a distraction. Something to keep Doom occupied till the rest of us are gone. Something that can engage Doom and keep him off our scent. Something—_ he paused. _Or some **one**._

Everyone’s eyes drifted to Charles.

_No,_ Erik said immediately. His hands were clenched and his eyes were furious. _Absolutely not._

_Erik—_ Charles began.

_This is entirely unnecessary,_ Erik snapped, ignoring him. _Why does it need to be Charles? What possible reason do you have for using him instead of someone else?_

Tony was frowning. _Is this because Charles is a telepath and can use his powers to figure out how to subdue Doom and keep him from figuring things out?_ he asked, glancing at Steve and Charles.

_Well – yeah_ , Steve agreed, before glancing over at Erik and grimacing. _But also because Doom seems to like him the best out of all of us._

_Absolutely **not**!_ Erik immediately snapped, sitting up in his seat with his spine going ramrod-straight in fury. Luckily, that was a moment when the entire crowd kicked off in a round of enthusiastic applause, so that his movement of infuriation was easily passed off as a particularly sensitive appreciation for shadow-puppet based interpretations of Doom’s ascent to power.

_Erik—_ Charles tried again, but Erik was having none of it.

_No, Charles,_ he growled, glaring at Steve. _I am not going to leave you here to distract that – that **madman** – while the rest of us make our escape._ His nostrils flared as he turned his eyes on Charles. _That is simply **not** an option._

_I agree,_ Tony piped up, surprising everyone. Erik turned to him in shocked gratitude, only for it to quickly fade when Tony added, _I think we should leave **Lehnsherr** behind instead._

_**What?**_ Erik demanded, furious. _Why the hell should I be the one to stay behind? If anyone ought to be left behind it’s **you** , Stark – **you** could distract Doom with your incessant mindless chatter._

_**Mindless?**_ Tony looked affronted. _Let me just remind you that out of the four of us here, you are the one missing a genius IQ, pal._

Erik frowned, distracted in spite of himself. _Steve doesn’t—_ he began but he paused when Steve winced.

_Sorry buddy,_ he said apologetically. _Super-serum enhanced cognitive function. Not exactly a genius, but technically … there could be an argument for it._

Erik glowered at him.

_You’re not being entirely fair,_ Charles interjected, reaching out to take Erik’s hand in his. _Erik’s intellect is hardly inconsiderable, after all. And besides,_ he turned to Erik with a warm, private smile, _I personally find his brain to be quite the most beautiful that I have ever encountered._

Erik valiantly attempted to hold on to his glowering but one fond look from Charles was enough to scupper that plan and his glare quickly melted into a frustrated look of absolute devotion instead.

_You’re all missing the point here,_ Steve said, shaking his head in exasperation. _What matters now is that we get out of here as quickly and cleanly as possible. Part of that equation means that there is a possibility that one of us needs to throw Doom off our scent and the best way to do that is to give that job to somebody that he likes – which, in this case, is Charles._ Steve then turned and smiled apologetically at both Erik and Charles. _It has nothing to do with our personal preferences or genius IQs or anything like that – I’m afraid that it’s all down what the best strategy is for getting us out of here._

Erik grimaced at that and looked away. When Charles reached out to squeeze his hand, however, Erik turned to him with a half-hearted glare. _This is all your fault,_ he said grumpily. _Why do you have to be so likeable all of the time?_

Charles smiled at that. _To attract grumpy older metal-wielding mutants, of course,_ he murmured, gently pressing into Erik’s shoulder with his own.

Erik let out a huff. _Well now you’ve got one,_ he grumbled. _So you can stop all the –_ he gestured at Charles’s entire face – _all the **that** now._

_“All the **that** ”, huh?_ Tony sounded amused. _Yeah, **definitely** not a genius …_

Both Charles and Erik threw him a dirty look.

_What?_ Tony demanded. _You can’t say that that was the most intelligent thing to have ever come out of a person’s mouth, I mean come on._

Erik let out a snarl and then both he and Tony were once again snapping at each other viciously while Charles bowed his head and buried his face in his hands.

Steve took a look at his companions and sighed. ‘Things were so much easier in the ‘40s,’ he muttered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the unexpected hiatus! Hopefully I'll update a lot more quickly from here on :) I'm slowly trying to get back into the swing of this story so apologies if I'm slightly rusty - hopefully the chapter's not _too_ ridiculous!

It was many, _many_ hours before the Doom’s Day celebrations came to a close. By this time none of the four could find the energy to talk, let alone make further plans, and even Tony had given up asking when it would all be over. 

‘Come, my friends,’ Doom declared when the applause for the last act finally tapered off, rising up from his seat looking as fresh as a daisy and gazing over at them with a proud smile. ‘Let us dine together! You can now sup on the choicest foods that Latveria has to offer while regaling me with your favourite moments from today’s celebrations. Does that not sound to you like the most magnificent end to an already incomparable day?’

Steve, Erik, Tony and Charles all shared a look of horror.

‘Guys, I can’t,’ Tony muttered, shaking his head. ‘I just – I really, really, _really_ can’t. I _can’t_.’

‘Yes you can,’ Steve said firmly, forcibly swallowing down his own anxiety. ‘You have to.’

‘Fine. Then I don’t _want_ to,’ Tony said stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest. ‘I don’t think I can stand another minute of that asshole. I’ll probably cause some sort of embarrassing and quite possibly cataclysmic diplomatic incident if I spend even one more second with the guy.’

Charles sighed. ‘It’s dinner, Tony,’ he said in a tone that was one part gentle and two parts exasperated. ‘That’s all it is. You can’t tell me that you aren’t starving.’

‘What can I say,’ Tony muttered darkly. ‘I must’ve lost my appetite when the animal pageant came on.’ He glanced at the others. ‘I mean, I don’t know about the rest of you guys, but there’s something about seeing a line of baby animals bearing an uncanny resemblance to the evil dictator who is holding you captive that _really_ makes you lose the will to live.’

‘Agreed,’ Erik muttered under his breath. He and Tony shared a look of commiseration and then shuddered.

Charles and Steve sighed and exchanged a gloomy look. Their other halves weren’t wrong.

‘Come!’ Doom called at that moment, gesturing expansively with one arm. ‘I shall escort you to the dining chamber, my friends. There we can dine together and you will be able to address me as if you were my equals.’

‘Gee, thanks,’ Tony said sarcastically.

‘You are most welcome,’ Doom responded with a gracious dip of his head, accepting his due. ‘Let it not be said that Victor von Doom thinks himself above personally showing the greatest courtesy to his guests … even the uninvited ones.’ His eyes trailed pointedly over Erik and Tony.

‘You are too kind,’ Tony muttered, before getting elbowed sharply in the side. He rolled his eyes as Doom turned off and strode into the hall, oblivious. ‘Please,’ he muttered, rubbing at his sore ribs and wincing. ‘Like Doom realised I was being sarcastic. That asshole wouldn’t know sarcasm if it bit him on the ass.’

‘You shouldn’t take that chance!’ Erik snarled, gritting his teeth. ‘Play all the games you like with your own life Stark, but don’t you _dare_ take those chances when Charles’s life is at risk!’

‘Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment,’ Charles interrupted before Tony could retort. ‘But I am quite capable of looking after myself, thank you Erik.’

‘Clearly not!’ Erik snapped, startling Charles as he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Or else we wouldn’t be in this mess now, would we?’

Charles’s eyes widened in outrage. ‘Are you saying that this is all _my_ fault?’ he demanded, staring at Erik in disbelief. ‘Is that what you actually think?’

‘No,’ Erik said, but before Charles could be mollified by this he continued, ‘I think it’s both yours _and_ Rogers’s fault.’

‘ _What?_ ’

‘Magsy has a point,’ Tony agreed, sounding almost apologetic as he turned to face Charles and Steve. ‘We wouldn’t be in this mess if _you_ guys hadn’t gone and got yourselves caught.’

‘ _Excuse me?_ ’

‘Guys,’ Steve muttered, looking tense. ‘Now is really not the right time for this.’ He then turned to Charles. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said bracingly. ‘We’ll kick their asses _after_ we’ve all got out of here.’

‘You could _try_ ,’ Erik sniffed, but he quietened down anyway.

They entered the dining hall in silence. Doom was already sat at the head of the table – a table, they noted, that could easily seat fifty – and he nodded graciously at them as they made their way in. 

‘Come, friends,’ he said aloud, waving them in. ‘Come sit beside me.’ He gestured towards the four seats closest to him, two on either side of the table.

There was a pause. Then a small scuffle broke out as each of them tried to take the seat furthest away from Doom. 

Both Steve and Charles were severely torn between not wanting to sit next to Doom themselves while at the same time wanting both Tony and Erik to sit as far away from Latveria’s beloved dictator as possible. 

Erik and Tony, on the other hand, had no such reservations.

‘Ha!’ Tony crowed as he tumbled into the second seat on the left. He looked up to see Doom staring at him in bemusement and his expression immediately wilted. ‘Your chairs are just as comfortable as I thought they’d be,’ he said lamely. Luckily for him, Doom seemed to accept this as a reasonable explanation for his exclamation. 

Erik had used this chance to sidle into the seat opposite Tony, while Steve and Charles, looking seriously displeased, had reluctantly slid into the seats next to Doom.

_Sorry_ , came Tony’s completely unapologetic voice in Charles’s head, _but Doom likes the two of you better anyway. Besides, it’s better this way. I mean, that’s the whole point of the plan, right?_

_You keep telling yourself that_ , Charles grumbled, shooting a glare across the table as he settled in next to Erik on Doom’s right. _I’m sure **Steve** will be thrilled to hear that you think that throwing him to the wolves is in his best interests_. He narrowed his eyes at Tony, who suddenly began to look highly interested in the cutlery.

Doom chose that moment to speak. ‘Now, my friends,’ he announced, causing them all to turn to him with varying degrees of wariness. ‘We are at last alone and can speak freely. You shall first tell me of all that you admired in our wondrous celebrations today, and then I shall reveal to you how it was that I came to be Latveria’s mightiest and most beloved ruler. But first,’ he abruptly turned to face Charles, who looked slightly startled by the unexpected attention, ‘You must tell me: are you at all fond of birds?’

Charles blinked at him, caught off-guard by the topic, before he brightened up. ‘Oh – well, yes,’ he said, warming to what he felt was a safe conversation topic. ‘I am. Very much, in fact. I was actually something of a keen ornithologist in my youth.’ 

There was a badly-suppressed snort from the left hand side of the table.

‘I am delighted to hear it,’ Doom said smoothly, looking pleased. He gave no indication that he had heard Tony, or that he had seen Erik roll his eyes in irritation. ‘And I am sure that you will be just as delighted with the surprise I have arranged for you all.’ He then turned to the side and nodded, and immediately five different waiters filed out of a discreet doorway, each carrying a highly decorated platter in their hands. ‘Behold!’ Doom said proudly, ‘I have arranged for a tremendous honour to be bestowed upon you all.’

Everyone’s hearts immediately sank. Erik and Charles exchanged a nervous glance.

‘That’s … real good of you,’ Steve said carefully, trying to figure out how one could politely refuse something that was being offered by a deluded and self-important dictator without really knowing what it was. ‘But we really don’t think that we deserve any special treatment …’

‘Nonsense,’ Doom waved him off, looking somehow even prouder than before. ‘You are honoured guests of mine and besides, it is Doom’s Day. I am always in a particularly magnanimous mood on Doom’s Day.’

_Charles, ask him to let us go_ , Erik said urgently, grasping hold of Charles’s thigh in a tight grip. _Maybe he’s magnanimous enough to let us go._

_Somehow I doubt that_ , Charles said grimly, holding his breath as a waiter laid a plate down in front of him. 

He stared at it. It looked …. normal.

At least, he thought it did until Tony leaned down closer to the tiny, roasted centre-piece of the dish and frowned. ‘Hey,’ he said, cocking his head to the side, ‘Is that a—’

‘Yes,’ Doom beamed, looking prouder than any of them had ever seen him. ‘It is indeed, as you have no doubt gathered, one of Latveria’s most delectable dishes.’ He gestured proudly to the plate in front of him. ‘In a mark of my respect for you, I have arranged for you to sample the choicest of all Latveria’s delicacies: the world-famous Latverian sparrow.’

Charles suddenly looked green. ‘You mean the incredibly rare and unique wild sparrow that is only found in Latveria?’ he asked in an oddly strangled voice.

‘I do indeed,’ Doom said proudly, puffing his chest out. ‘And it is right that you feel honoured, Dr. Xavier. Very few people have ever had the pleasure of tasting these delightful creatures.’

Charles made an indecipherable noise in the back of his throat and stared dazedly down at his plate.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. ‘These birds,’ he said, hesitantly. ‘They’re rare?’

‘Exceedingly,’ Doom said, sounding pleased with himself. 

‘Huh,’ Steve ignored the look Tony was sending him, and fixed Doom with a stern gaze. ‘Well perhaps they might not be so rare if you stopped hunting them and serving them up at dinner parties all the time.’

Tony and Erik froze. 

There was silence. 

Doom stared at Steve in bemusement. ‘I do beg your pardon,’ he said slowly, as if trying to grasp what had been said. ‘But I believe that I misheard you just now. What did you just say?’

Erik and Tony exchanged an anxious, dread-filled glance. Charles was still gazing dully down at his roast sparrow.

‘I’m just saying,’ Steve continued brazenly, seemingly unaware that his companions were resigning themselves to the fact that they were all going to be thrown into a deep, dank dungeon somewhere in the darkest part of Latveria. ‘That maybe if you didn’t kill these birds all the time then maybe they wouldn’t be so very – you know – _rare_.’

This time even Charles caught onto the tension in the room and he jerked his head up, startled, looking between Steve and Doom with sudden anxiety.

There was silence. Nobody so much as breathed,

Then Doom’s brow abruptly smoothened out. ‘Ah,’ he said, nodding slowly. ‘I see. I now understand your concern.’ He then shook his head genially even as Tony, Erik and Charles stared at him in disbelief. ‘But do not worry my friend – I am well aware of the rarity of this wondrous, delicious tiny creature.’ He puffed this chest out proudly. ‘That is why this dish is served _only_ to myself and a select, handpicked few. You may rest assured that I do not allow just _anybody_ to sample the sublime delicacies of the Latverian sparrow.’

Charles let out a dazed hiccup. Erik was watching him worriedly.

‘Um,’ Steve was still frowning. ‘That’s not exactly what I—’ he began before he was interrupted by Tony laying a hand on his arm almost casually and digging his fingers in tightly.

‘Stop antagonising our host, Steve,’ Tony said, smiling through tightly clenched teeth. ‘We don’t want to look ungrateful now, do we?’

Steve blinked and then turned to look at the others, who were all wearing expressions of varying degrees of resignation. He grimaced and then nodded reluctantly. ‘I apologise,’ he said with a tight smile. ‘I’m glad to know you are … selective.’

Doom gave him a gracious nod, and then, picking up his knife and fork, began to start on his sparrow.

The others, with varying degrees of guilt and resignation, reluctantly followed suit.

Ten minutes later, they had all finally made their way through the dish. Erik had been the first to finish, having wolfed it all down while blithely ignoring the dark looks Charles had sent his way, and even Charles himself had managed to clear his plate, although not without displaying a slightly mournful expression the entire way through. 

Tony waited until Charles had set down his knife and fork before turning to Doom. ‘Thanks for the bird, Doc,’ he said with a forced smile. ‘It was great. Really something special.’ He started to push his chair out. ‘Guess we’ll just head on back and get—’

‘You aren’t thinking of leaving?’ Doom interrupted, looking astonished.

Everyone’s eyes zeroed in on Tony.

‘Well,’ Tony said slowly, ‘… yeah.’ He gave Doom a weak smile. ‘I mean, we’re kind of beat, what with the food and the jet lag and the – er – celebrations. We were all kind of hoping for an early night.’

‘But the meal hasn’t ended!’ Doom said, frowning. 

Around the table, four hearts sank simultaneously.

‘It hasn’t?’ Tony asked weakly.

‘But naturally,’ Doom said with a proud huff. ‘That was just the first course!’ 

Charles made a strangled noise. ‘It was?’ he asked, looking ill.

‘Of course!’ Doom replied, looking almost offended. ‘I have seven courses laid out for you tonight, my friends, and we have merely had the first of these. And besides,’ he added as the smiles on the faces of the others suddenly started to look strangely fixed. ‘You have yet to try the Latverian Peacock. I assure you,’ he said proudly. ‘You will _not_ be disappointed.’


	11. Chapter 11

The rest of the dinner continued to be torturous.

Luckily, Charles was – despite what Erik repeatedly said – more pragmatic than sentimental, and he soon rallied and forced himself to get back to the job of engaging Doom.

The best way to do this, of course, was to get Doom to talk about himself.

‘… Of course I knew even then that I was destined for greatness,’ Doom was saying, gesticulating widely and gazing off into the distance. ‘After all, had not all of the events that had preceded this point indicated thus? It was inevitable, my friends, _inevitable_. And so it was with this unmistakeable truth in my mind that I woke up on the morning of my fourth birthday ...’

The others, who had suffered through the telling of three entire birthdays previous to this, could only muster up so much enthusiasm.

They had by now finished dinner – which had been an ordeal in itself even without the stories of Doom’s tedious childhood or the need to scramble their brains when asked what their favourite aspect of Doom’s Day had been – and, apart from Doom himself, they were now all thoroughly tired and worn out.

 _Charles_ , came Tony’s weary voice in Charles’s head, _Please do something to let us get out of here or I swear to god I’m going to stab myself in the eye with this fork._ His fingers fidgeted along the edge of a small, unused silver fork that now lay on the otherwise mostly empty table. 

_I agree_ , said Erik, his tone grim. _If this doesn’t end now then I’ll probably end up stabbing Tony in the eye with a fork too_.

Tony’s eyes widened and he immediately clamped his hand down hard on the fork, which had jumped slightly at Erik’s words.

Charles shook himself out of his daze, blinking his eyes to clear away the glazed-over look that he had been wearing. He took a moment to stop himself from yawning before sneaking a quick glance over to Steve, who was still smiling and nodding dumbly as Doom explained how he had fully mastered the art of horsemanship at the tender age of four. _Steve?_ he asked tentatively. _What do you think we should do?_

Steve took a moment to rouse himself from his stupor. _It depends_ , he said cautiously. _Are we still all up for escaping tonight?_

An immediate chorus of _yes_ -es – and an additional _fuck yes, what do you think I want to stay here for any longer than I have to_ from Tony – caused Steve to let out a small huff. _I just thought you guys might be exhausted from all of Doom’s talking_ , he said, mildly. _You all need to be awake and alert for this to work, we’ve only got the one chance to pull it off._

 _We’ll be fine_ , Erik said flatly, even as he narrowed his eyes at Tony, making it clear just who it was that he thought was the weak link in the group. _I’ll make sure of it_.

 _Right then_ , Steve said grimly. _Let’s wind this down_.

The four of them turned to look at Doom, who was still talking, oblivious to their stares.

 _Yeah_ , Tony drawled. _Something tells me that he’s not going to be stopping any time soon._

Steve grimaced. _I thought that might happen_ , he sighed. _It looks like we’ll have to go with Plan B. Charles—_ Steve turned a rueful expression on Charles, who was looking slightly pale, if rather determined. _Good luck_.

 _Yeah, good luck, pal_ , Tony said fervently. _It’s been nice knowing you_.

Erik’s expression darkened and he opened his mouth to protest, but a sharp look from Charles managed to stop him from making a scene, although it was clear from his face that he was not at all happy with this turn of events. _I will come back for you, Charles_ , he said seriously, meeting Charles’s eyes. _I will not abandon you to this monster_.

Charles sighed. _That’s nice, darling_ , he said, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. _Now you run along and do whatever Steve says, and make sure you don’t make a nuisance of yourself. The same goes for you, Tony_ , he added sharply, narrowing his eyes at Tony’s gleeful expression.

 _You okay about doing this?_ Steve asked again.

Charles smiled. _I’ll be fine_ , he said. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned to Doom. ‘That was remarkable,’ he said with admirable warmth as Doom came to the end of a long story about how he had successfully wrestled a polar bear – and beaten it – not long after he had mastered the arts of archery, swordsmanship, and chess before his fifth birthday. ‘It’s so lovely to hear you speak about your childhood, Victor.’

Next to him, Erik’s eyes abruptly narrowed. _Victor?_ he mouthed indignantly, glaring at Steve, who just shook his head apologetically and shrugged.

Doom had puffed out his chest. ‘It is indeed a pleasure to have such an avid listener at my side, Dr. Xavier,’ he said appreciatively. 

‘The pleasure is all mine,’ Charles said, smiling a charmingly winning smile and determinedly ignoring the way the ring on his finger was getting uncomfortably tight. ‘And you know very well that I’d like you to call me _Charles_.’

Beside him, Erik let out a noise that sounded halfway between a cough and a cat being strangled. Steve and Tony threw him a look of apprehension, and Charles’s smile became rather fixed, but luckily Doom didn’t seem to register it at all.

‘Charles,’ Doom said in a gratified tone. ‘It is good to finally converse with an acquaintance with an intellect almost as great as my own. I am sure that you too know the burden of being the only truly great intellect in a sea of mundane, second-rate minds.’

This time it was Tony who let out the strangled noise of outrage, although Erik didn’t look too happy about this slur either.

‘I do,’ Charles agreed, sighing dramatically. ‘In fact,’ he looked at Doom with wide, innocent eyes. ‘I was rather hoping that you would do me the honour of giving me a _private_ talk about Latveria’s latest technological developments.’

‘Indeed,’ Doom looked pleased by this. ‘I shall be glad to. Tomorrow we can—’

‘ _Now_ ,’ Charles interrupted him, quickly covering his anxiety with a wide smile. ‘I am … so _very_ anxious to hear you talk about … everything.’

‘Now?’ Doom sounded slightly surprised. ‘But I have not yet finished telling you how I killed a wolf with my bare hands at the tender age of—’

‘You can tell me that too,’ Charles said quickly, forcibly brightening up his smile by a few kilowatts so that his cheek muscles strained. ‘I’d love to hear _all_ about it. Alone.’

‘Hmm,’ Doom considered.

Steve and Tony held their breaths. Erik glared daggers in Doom’s direction.

‘It is decided,’ Doom said abruptly, rising from his seat and causing the others to startle and belatedly jump to their feet in response. ‘Our dinner is now at an end, gentlemen.’ He turned to Steve, Erik and Tony. ‘I shall call for escorts to lead you back to your rooms while—’

‘Or they could just stay here,’ Charles said quickly. ‘And talk. About you. And how …’

‘About how much we admire you,’ Steve said smoothly. ‘And how much we were impressed by – by Doom’s Day.’

‘Ah,’ Doom nodded knowingly. ‘Of course. I should have realised that you would be keen to do so. Very well.’ He turned to Charles. ‘We will leave them here, Dr. Xavier, and take our leave of them until the morrow.’

‘Until the morrow,’ Charles repeated, looking slightly miserable as Doom led the way out of the dining hall. Erik, in return, looked heartbroken.

‘Don’t worry, buddy,’ Tony said bracingly, clapping Erik on the arm in solidarity but accidentally hitting him a bit too hard and causing Erik to let out a grunt. ‘Charles will be fine. He’s the smartest guy I know. Well – except for me, of course.’

‘Shut up Tony,’ Erik muttered.

Steve was looking around, his body tense and his expression alert. ‘It looks like the coast is clear,’ he murmured, allowing himself to relax a little. He turned to the others. ‘It’s time.’

‘Awesome,’ Tony said, rubbing his hands together. He then paused and turned to look between Erik and Steve. ‘… So,’ he said brightly. ‘Anyone here know the way out of this place?’


	12. Chapter 12

Charles chewed his lip anxiously as he looked out of the window in Doom’s apartments, waiting for him to pour them each a glass of the finest Latverian port from an exquisitely-crafted crystal decanter.

Hopefully by now Steve and the others were well on their way to escaping. He just hoped that Erik wasn’t causing them any undue problems.

Charles always had been an optimist.

‘Your drink, Dr Xavier – forgive me, _Charles_ ,’ Doom said smoothly, gesturing Charles over to the table where had poured the drinks into two ornate chalices. 

Charles gave him a wan smile. ‘Thank you, Victor.’

‘I am sure that a refined palate such as yours will be able to fully appreciate the depth of flavour in our Latverian port,’ Doom said gravely, surveying Charles over the top of his glass. ‘You, no doubt, appreciate the finer things in life, Charles.’

‘I’ve always been partial to a good drink, it’s true,’ Charles said weakly, wishing dearly that he had a bottle of strong, cheap whisky in his hand instead of a delicate glass of Doom’s prize-winning Latverian port. 

Doom nodded sagely. ‘You and I are very much alike,’ he said, sounding decisive. ‘I knew it from the start.’

Charles, who was rather alarmed at being compared in any way, shape or form to the madman that was doom, found himself taking a rather larger gulp of his port than he had meant to. 

‘You flatter me,’ he choked out when he was at last able. ‘But in all honestly, Doo – _Victor_ , I really don’t think that there is _anyone_ out there like you.’

Doom puffed his chest out at that, taking Charles’s words as a compliment – because of course he would. 

‘Every word you speak only shows me that I was correct in my initial supposition,’ he said grandly, turning to Charles with a raised chin. ‘You will not believe it, Charles, but even _I_ am sometimes astounded by my sheer intelligence and unrivalled perspicacity.’

‘Oh, I believe it,’ Charles muttered, taking a long drink from his rapidly-depleting glass of port. 

‘I am glad to hear it,’ Doom said pompously. ‘Which is why I have now decided to honour you with a very great gift.’

Charles immediately felt very, very nervous. ‘Oh?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice from coming out in a harsh croak. ‘It’s not necessary – really, don’t feel like you _need_ to do something—’

‘I do not _need_ to do _anything_ ,’ Doom said, tossing his head arrogantly. ‘I only do what I _choose_ to do. Such is the power of Latveria! Such is the power of _Doom_!’

‘Yes,’ Charles smiled thinly. ‘Quite.’

‘And what I wish to do is this,’ Doom turned to Charles, looking at him with his intent, piercing eyes that made Charles wish that he’d had more than one tiny glass of port to fortify him. ‘Charles, prepare yourself—’ Charles dutifully clutched the sides of his chair, sinking his nails into the surface in apprehension, ‘—for I wish to bare my heart to you!’

_Well that doesn’t sound good_ , Charles thought, feeling his own heart sink deep down inside his chest.

‘Charles Xavier,’ Doom boomed out, raising his hands dramatically in a way that even Erik wasn’t melodramatic enough to do. ‘I wish to talk to you,’ he paused dramatically, looking to see if Charles was paying attention, before raising his chin to the sky. ‘About _love_.’

There was complete silence. 

Doom stood there, his arms still spread out wide, looking intently at Charles, waiting for a reaction.

Charles stared back at him, completely nonplussed. Then the words sunk in.

Right, he thought. So _that’s_ how this is going to go.

He swallowed. It was going to be a long, _long_ night.

*****

Erik was not happy.

‘I can’t believe you made me leave Charles behind!’ he whispered angrily for the hundredth time in the five minutes that had past since they’d left Charles behind. ‘You made me _abandon_ him! With _Dr. Doom_!’

Tony and Steve exchanged long-suffering looks.

‘We didn’t make you abandon him,’ Steve said patiently, even as he peered carefully around a wall to check for security guards. 

‘ _Charles_ made you abandon him,’ Tony said, sounding bored. ‘But I’m now regretting that we didn’t abandon _you_ instead.’

‘Tony,’ Steve said warningly, but Erik was luckily ignoring them both in favour of dramatically mourning the five-minute-old loss of Charles.

‘Charles simply doesn’t understand what he’s let himself in for,’ he lamented, torn between heartbreak and incandescent fury. ‘He’s blinded by his naivety, he only sees the good in people—’

‘That’s for sure,’ Tony muttered, glancing pointedly at Erik, but Erik didn’t notice.

‘—He’s far too trusting,’ he continued mournfully. ‘He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t yet realise that the world is a horrible place filled with terrible, unprincipled people who are far too ready to take advantage of vulnerable, handsome scientists at the _slightest_ opportunity—’

‘Do _I_ count as a vulnerable, handsome scientist?’ Tony said in an undertone, batting his eyelashes at Steve.

Steve snorted. ‘I think you count as one of those terrible unprincipled people all too ready to _take advantage_ of those vulnerable, handsome scientists,’ he said wryly, all the while keeping a keen eye out for Doom’s guards.

Tony grinned, before sighing and jerking his head towards Erik, who was still being very vocal (albeit in whispers) about his displeasure at having left Charles behind. ‘He _does_ know that Charles is an omega-level telepath, right?’ he asked doubtfully. ‘And that he’s been trained by SHIELD? And that he’s best friends with Natasha and Emma Frost, who are quite frankly two of the most frightening and manipulative people on the face of the planet, right? Because the way he talks about him, Charles may as well be a fluffy little kitten.’

Steve hid a smile, even as he peeked his head around the corner. ‘It’s just his way of showing he cares,’ he said quietly, narrowing his eyes as he saw a lone guard walking up the hall. ‘I’m guessing it’s not a feeling that he’s all that used to. It can be scary, caring that much about a person. Wait here for a minute, would you?’ And without skipping a beat, Steve took off, moving stealthily to hide in a doorway. 

Tony watched as the guard approached and was then swiftly taken down by an arm around his throat. Steve waited until he was unconscious before pushing the slumped body into the shadows of the doorway and then jogging back to join Tony and Erik. 

Erik glared at him as he returned. ‘I could have taken care of that,’ he said stiffly.

‘Sure you could,’ Tony said breezily. ‘But we figured that you were too busy whining about Charles, so we thought we’d tackle this one ourselves.’

Steve raised an eyebrow. ‘We?’ he asked, looking at Tony.

‘Sure,’ Tony clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Teamwork, right?’

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘If you say so,’ he said. He then turned so that he was facing Erik as well as Tony. ‘Our exit is just around the corner,’ he informed them. ‘We just need to navigate this bend and sneak through the open hallway without running into anyone, and then hopefully we’re out of here.’

Erik nodded, his mouth tight, his mind still clearly stuck on Charles and their impending abandonment of him. 

Steve gave him a rueful look and then reached out and clapped both Erik and Tony on the arm. ‘Right,’ he said, nodding at them. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

‘Way ahead of you, buddy,’ Tony said, pushing off from the wall and stepping forward, taking the lead. ‘Let it never be said that I don’t pull my weight around here. Just follow my lead and I’ll get us all out of here nice and safe.’

Steve and Erik both looked at each other. Erik glared at him. Steve shrugged. ‘Sure,’ he said carefully, turning to look at Tony. ‘Just – make sure you watch where we’re going, okay?’

Tony rolled his eyes. ‘Oh please,’ he said, looking insulted. ‘I have one of the highest IQs in the world, you know. I _think_ I can handle a simple bit of recon.’

Erik and Steve exchanged another glance. ‘Okay then,’ Steve said, ignoring the look on Erik’s face and gesturing forward. ‘I guess we’re in your hands then.’

‘Great,’ Tony and placed his hands on his hips. ‘It’s good to finally get a bit of respect around here.’ He turned to the others and raised his chin. ‘Now you two just relax and follow my lead and we’ll be out of here in no time.’

‘This is a mistake and we’re all going to die,’ Erik said flatly.

Steve ignored him, smiling thinly. ‘Lead the way,’ he said smoothly, gesturing at Tony.

Tony beamed. ‘Follow me,’ he said, leading them forward with his chest puffed out with pride. And so the three of them confidently turned the corner, safe in the knowledge that they were in good, capable hands – 

… And promptly bumped straight into an entire contingent of Dr. Doom’s guards, waiting for them on the other side.


End file.
